


Checkmate

by angel_authoress



Series: mothman & spaceboy [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Implied OC/OC Relationships, M/M, Original Character(s), this one's a little heavier on the angst but i promise it'll all work out in the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-08-21 22:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_authoress/pseuds/angel_authoress
Summary: With the new Tallest taking command, there's now a race against the clock to get to Irk ASAP. But with Dib and Zim now at odds again and the civil unrest boiling on planet Meekrob, can the Resisty stay together long enough to take down the Irken Empire?





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> hey howdy hey, it's me, ur fav thot, bringing you what should hopefully be the final installment of this hellfic
> 
> A FEW THINGS TO SAY BEFORE WE BEGIN: 
> 
> -this fic MIGHT take a little longer to complete bc for the last two I had multiple chapters written ahead of time before I published them. with this fic, i'm going one chapter at a time. but fear not, I promise you this fic will not be abandoned. it just might take me a little longer than usual to pump out chapters (the usual wait time is a week for updates and i'll try to stick to that!)
> 
> -this will MOST LIKELY be the last installment in this series. if this fic ends up getting too long i'll split it into parts, but i don't foresee that happening. 
> 
> -while I'm working on this i'm going to try to get those oc arts out as well so yall know what these characters look like hhhhh
> 
> -i'm going to try naming chapters now, not a big deal, I just wanted to try my hand at chapter titles ;;
> 
> ALRIGHT.! with all that out of the way, i bring you chapter one!

Meekrob is every bit as it was when she left it.

Atra wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to find- it wasn’t like she had been gone long enough for any drastic changes, at least on the outside, anyhow. But it _felt_ like she’d been gone for hundreds of years and was finally coming home again, only this time the home she knew was gone. She was well aware of that. Things could never go back to the way they used to be, yet on the way here she was constantly having visions of what life was like before that fateful day- the day she had been assigned her mission.

The trip had been nearly excruciating. She was fighting with herself every other minute, debating on whether or not to turn back. She really, _really_ almost had. The others- _Lard Nar_ \- they’d take her back without issue, she knew that. But she could only run for so long- if she didn’t come for them, _they_ would come for _her_ eventually. Better to give them what they want now, rather than endangering the people she had come to call her friends. Besides, this would give them the help they needed. She _just_ might be able to make this work, if she played her cards right.

The journey was an internal battle to the death, berating herself for not saying goodbye to anyone else, knowing full well that there was a big chance of her never being able to leave Meekrob ever again. And while her race did not believe in murder as punishment, she wouldn’t be surprised if they changed the rules just for her- she couldn’t say she didn’t deserve it, after all.

It was probably for the best, anyway. If the others knew, they would’ve tried to stop her- especially Infera. The only reason she told Lard Nar is because she knew he would understand, or at least act like he did- _and_ stop anyone else from doing anything stupid as the captain.

She had been hiding in shame for so long, too afraid to ever show her face anywhere near Meekrob. If there was one thing being on the Resisty taught her, it was that she couldn’t live in fear any longer. That wasn’t _life_. She even found that, if she somehow miraculously got out of this, she’d like to learn what _life_ is. After all, she’d found the perfect teachers.

_I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. Be brave. Just this once, be brave._

The docking station finally came into view. Atra quickly began slowing down the engines, preparing for landing. She knew full well what was coming the moment she stepped out of the ship.

The Capital, or the _Mun Ahka_ as it was called in her native tongue, did seem to have changed somewhat since she was last here. There were buildings she didn’t recognize- and the security seemed tighter than usual. She could only hope that something drastic didn’t happen in her absence, but it would make sense- they were technically still at war with the now crumbling Irken Empire.

She felt the ship lock into place, and after she was sure she was parked, shut the engines down. Although she didn’t need to breathe, she took several deep breaths, preparing herself for what was inevitably going to come. Mustering every last ounce of strength she could, Atra opened the hatch and stepped out, reluctantly welcoming the cold embrace of the planet she once called home.

* * *

Vythani furrowed his brow, following after Lard Nar as he walked rather quickly back in the direction of his office. “But _Meekrob?_ Why? That’s going to cost us two months of time at _least_.”

“Think of it as a pit stop,” Lard Nar answered, without turning around to look at the doctor. “But it’s a necessary pit stop, of course. We need to prepare before we head to Irk- and Meekrob will have the resources we need.”

“I-I’m sure they do sir, but the new Tallest, Tallest Min. She is taking what remains of her soldiers back to Irk, and if they get there before we do-“

“They won’t,” he interrupted coldly. “I’ve already made plans to block their way- I got a few of our partners to send some fleets out to buy us some time.”

“Like animals to a slaughterhouse, then,” Vythani muttered lowly. He heaved a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “With all due respect, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up, sir.”

_That_ got Lard Nar to pause. He dramatically turned around to face his subordinate, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits beneath his goggles. “They’re _weaker_ now, Vythani. Tallest Min is not a threat as long as she does not get to Irk, and she _won’t_. Besides, we've had this conversation already. Sacrifices are required- did you not say that yourself?”

“I did,” Vythani affirmed, “but I won’t stand idly by and watch you throw people’s lives away as if they’re nothing, either. Even as a soldier myself, I can’t approve of that. As a doctor I see now that life is precious, and I want to serve that cause.”

The doctor was older, not old by his species' standards, but old enough to understand. Yet he seemed so childlike- the fire in his eyes reminded him of a determined, passionate child. To Lard Nar, it was just as invigorating as it was saddening. “And I admire that- you’ve always been that way, I could see it beneath that hard soldier exterior. You’ve always been gentle, kind… merciful to the weak and the strong alike- even those stronger than _you,_ oddly enough. You see the good in everyone doctor, you believe in second chances for all. But I also knew that that fondness for life didn’t come out of nowhere. I thought that at least _you_ of all people would understand the decisions I have to make- for _everyone_ \- as captain.”

Vythani’s hard expression suddenly softened. He placed a hand on Lard Nar’s shoulder- an act of reassurance, though he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or for Lard Nar. “Believe me, I do not envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, sir. I understand that you have to think about the bigger picture, rather than the lives of a few ragtag, expendable soldiers. As a former expendable soldier myself, I know that all too well. Back when I served on my home planet, my commanders all felt the same. When I was a child I had dreams of one day leading my own army, but looking back on it now, I can’t believe I had such ambitions. I am far too weak to make the decisions you have to make, captain. And I know… that it is naïve to think that we can save everyone, but I just…”

“You wish we could,” Lard Nar finished, looking down at his feet. “I know. I do too.”

“Could we not… just this once, try and save everyone?” Vythani asked in a hushed tone, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“...We’d only be met with heartache in the end, I’m afraid."

“We’re going to be met with heartache either way.”

Lard Nar’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, there it is. Now you have an _inkling_ of what it’s like. To wake up every day knowing that no matter how much we succeed we’ll only remember the cost, the sacrifices. There is no true happy end to this, doctor. I know that all too well. But maybe, if I do a good enough job, I can save people. Not all of them, and maybe not many. But- _somebody_ out there, who I can say is alive because I saved them. Maybe they’ll go on to live long and happy lives, maybe they’ll die tomorrow- I have no idea.” He paused to heave a long sigh. “Is that… is that enough, doctor?"

“Yes,” Vythani said reassuringly, without hesitation. “It's more than enough. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to justify your actions. Like I said sir, I know why you do what you do, and I would not want to be in your position. I just… don’t know how much longer I can keep up with you. Ha… maybe Zim was right, maybe I am becoming an old man.”

“Perhaps, or maybe you’re finally coming to your senses and realizing that this whole thing is crazy. It’s about time one of us did, quite frankly.”

Vythani barely stifled a chuckle. “Right. I’ll get out of your hair then, sir. I’ll be awaiting further orders soon.”

“Of course. Don’t work yourself too hard.”

* * *

Tak awakened first to the painful throbbing sensation in her abdomen, but was quickly made aware of that awful Earth sun shining directly in her sensitive eyes. Squeezing them tightly shut, she pressed herself even further against the mattress she was laying on. She wracked her brain, attempting to remember whose house she was at and why she was even on Earth in the first place. How had she sustained these injuries? Who had taken her?

“Oh, you’re awake.”

The voice was oddly calm given her situation, Tak noted. She forced her eyes open to look at her captor and was surprised to find that she knew her. Purple hair- an odd hue for an Earthling- and that same agitated tone that she recognized all too well. “You…” she croaked out, her voice hoarse. “The sister unit…”

“It’s Gaz,” the girl sternly reminded her, softly shutting the door behind her as she sat down in the computer chair across the room. “Not ‘sister-unit’.”

“Right… _Gaz_ ,” she said, trying the way it sounded. It sounded awful, just like everything else coming from her mouth right now. “You… what am I..?”

Gaz took a sip from the mug she was holding. “Well, if you’re anything like Zim then you probably won’t believe me when I tell you this, but you came to my door a couple nights ago _begging_ for my help.”

Flabbergasted, Tak forced herself to sit up, hissing slightly at the discomfort it brought her. “I-I did _what_ now?”

“You were hurt. Bad. Although I’m guessing you already knew that,” Gaz drawled, nodding slightly in reference to her injuries. “And you said I was the only one that you could come to.”

“Doesn’t _sound_ like me,” Tak muttered defensively.

“No, it doesn’t,” Gaz agreed. “But you seriously looked like you were going to die if I didn’t do something.”

Tak gently raised her less injured hand to her chest and slid her hand down, feeling along the various bandages that covered her torso. She had to admit, the human had outdone herself, dressing each and every one of her wounds, even though there was no fear of infection since her PAK protected against most known diseases. Though she doubted Gaz was aware of that. “I would not have died, but had you not stepped in, I may not have achieved a full recovery. As I’ve come to find out, Irken technology isn’t as flawless as I thought it was.”

Gaz smirked languidly. “So I’ve heard.”

Tak shifted to get into a more comfortable position, mindful of her injuries. “You mentioned Zim earlier. W-Where the hell is that idiot? I couldn’t find him anywhere. Not that I’d ever ask for _his_ help of course, but-“

“In space,” Gaz answered as if it were obvious, “fighting the Irken Empire. With my idiot brother.”

Dead silence filled the room as she processed what she had just been told.

“I’m sorry, _what_ did you just say?” she asked, finally breaking the silence after a moment. Her voice came out as an undignified squeak and Gaz had to fight back the urge to laugh.

She took another sip of her tea. “It’s a long story, but basically, Zim found out he was... what did he call it? _Defective_. Then he got all depressed and went into space, Dib found him and brought him back after he almost got himself killed, and now they’re both in space again fighting against evil aliens- AKA, your people.”

“...So the Tallest finally told him the truth then,” Tak mused. “I figured it would only be a matter of time. I should’ve known Zim wouldn’t listen to anyone but them about his mission. But why- why would _Zim_ of all people turn against his own kind?”

“Beats me,” Gaz said with a shrug. “Zim’s always been weird.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Zim would turn into a rebel. You said your brother, Dib was with him?”

Gaz waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, they went off with- some other Irken rebel…”

“Another Irken rebel? What was their name?” Tak asked.

Gaz’s eyes squinted as she thought, trying to remember back to she and Dib's conversations before he left. Dib had mentioned this Irken before, she was sure of it… “It was a girl, I wanna say her name was… Atria? Atrua-“

“Atra,” Tak interrupted. “Yes, I remember hearing of her. She was the one leading an undercover attack against the Irken Empire. The Tallest had ordered for her immediate death if anyone saw her… I’m assuming she somehow escaped them.”

“Yeah, her. Dib said they were doing okay the last time he called, but I haven’t heard from him in a little while.”

Tak scoffed bitterly, her bent antennae twitching slightly. “He’s probably dead. A weak human like him wouldn’t survive long in space.”

Now, Gaz wasn’t one to get defensive, especially over her _brother_ of all people, but hearing her say that he was weak, that _humans_ were weak, rubbed her the wrong way. “You know, you’re staying as a guest in my house. I could kick you out for insulting my species.”

“But you won’t,” Tak smirked. “You and your brother are not so different, you know. The Dib I remember would’ve jumped at the chance to have an alien held hostage in his house.”

“You’re not a hostage,” Gaz calmly reminded her. “You can leave whenever you want. Actually, I’d prefer if you left ASAP. It hasn’t been easy hiding you from my dad these past couple of days.”

“Believe me, I want to. I’d like to get off this pathetic rock as soon as possible, but my ship is… it’s seen better days.”

“Can’t you fix it?” Gaz asked.

Tak glared at her, silently asking if she was seriously asking something like that. “Well of course I can, but not without the right parts. If I could just get a hold of the Tallest…”

Gaz leaned forward in her chair, resting her cheek against her hand. "Didn't they leave you to die after you tried and failed to take over the planet?" 

Tak was, admittedly, a little caught off guard by the question, and found that she was rather curious about that herself- but she certainly wasn't going to give the human the satisfaction of knowing that. "They probably didn't even know I was still alive, so they didn't think to look for me. Besides, it is not their responsibility to look after me," she reasoned.

Gaz was quiet for a few seconds, clearly having trouble believing her dismissive explanation. “Right. Of course. Well, call whoever you want, just don’t go bringing your freaky alien leaders here to blow up the Earth or whatever- I don’t want this place destroyed until _after_ I get out of art school.”

What was it with humans and their irrational fears of extraterrestrial life? (Well, perhaps not so irrational considering she _had_ tried to destroy the planet, but still). “I already told you, your planet is safe. Do you really think I have the materials to do such a thing anyway?”

“Guess not,” Gaz muttered with a shrug. “Anyway, I have to get ready for work.”

“You’re leaving?” Tak asked as she watched the purple-haired girl rise to her feet.

“Yeah, why? Do you get lonely or something?” she teased, searching for her jacket.

“No, of course not.”

Gaz eyed her almost suspiciously as she grabbed her jacket from the floor. “Dad won’t be home until late tonight so… I guess you can look around if you want, just- don’t go through my stuff, okay?”

Tak huffed indignantly. “Please, I have no interest in your stuff. Besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but moving is…”

“-Not in the cards for you,” Gaz finished. “Got it. I only have a four hour shift today, so I’ll be back before dad gets home.”

“Where are you employed anyway?”

“The grocery store,” Gaz answered as she made her way to the door. “Any more questions or am I free to go now?”

Tak’s antennae twitched in annoyance as she angrily flopped back against the bed. “Just go.”

Although she couldn’t see the human’s face as she walked out, she was almost one hundred percent certain she was smirking.

* * *

“State your name and your purpose.”

“A-Atrana Astralle, former commander of the failed conquest of the Irken Empire," she stated.

The leader from the group of soldiers surrounding her recoiled. He exchanged looks between her and the other soldiers before reaching for his helmet, slowly pulling it off of his head. _“A-Atra?"_ he stammered. "Is that you?”

If she were a creature with a heart, it would’ve stopped. There was no mistaking him- he always chose to manifest himself tall, larger than life with big expressive blue eyes and unruly hair. “Z-Zevven?” she questioned shakily. “You’re alive..!”

Zevven blinked slowly, as if he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. “Yes… I escaped, not long after you…” he trailed off, averting her gaze.

She lowered her head shamefully, unsure of where she could even begin. How could she explain her absence? Would he even want to listen? “I-“

He held up a hand. “I remember you. And if you’re about to launch into a long story about how you regret leaving, then save it. Right now, all I want to know is why you’ve come back. Frankly..." He cocked his gun, keeping it pointed at her chest. "You have a lot of nerve, coming back here.”

Atra remained almost deathly still, keeping her hands held up high to show her surrender. “…I know I am not welcome here,” she said weakly, “but I have come offering a proposition.”

“And what could you have to offer that we would be interested in?”

“Me.”

_“...You?”_

She nodded. “Yes. _Me_. You see, my friends- you may know them as the Resisty. We’re partnered with them. They’re coming here. They have a plan to take down the Irken Empire once and for all, but they can’t do it without your assistance. So if you agree to help them, then you can have me. I’ll turn myself in as a criminal of war and you can do whatever you’d like with me."

Zevven smirked. “Rather bold of you, to think _you’re_ an even trade for such a thing.”

She shrugged, mirroring his smirk. “I’d like to think it's pretty fair.”

“Mm… your offer is tempting, I'll give you that,” he admitted. “But unfortunately, it’s not up to me. You know who you have to speak to, right?”

She was no fool. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of this without speaking to the Grand Council- they were the ones who would ultimately decide her fate, after all. “Yes.”

The group of soldiers, including Zevven, started to close in around her, pointing and aiming their guns, ready to pull the trigger at any moment if need be. “Then do you willingly place yourself under custody of the Meekrob Grand Council?”

_Just this once, be brave._

_Be brave._

**_Be brave._ **

She knew this was coming, thought she had accepted this fate long ago, so why was she still feeling hesitant? Why did she want nothing more than to turn around?

_No. I will not let down my comrades twice._

For once, she was going to do something right. She’d never been much of a soldier, no matter what side she was fighting on. Now was her chance, her opportunity to prove that she was capable.

_No one else will suffer because of my mistakes again. And this… this will make sure of it._

“I willingly place myself in the custody of the Meekrob Grand Council.”

And just like that, she was home again.


	2. New Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the new Tallest takes command and the Grand Council of Meekrob decides on Atra's fate, a now stranded Tak must accept her situation and use what little resources she has to get her ship back up and running again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick little warning, this chapter has some very slight body horror. nothing too graphic, but I thought I should warn just in case. 
> 
> enjoy!

“These beds are too small,” Purple whined, struggling to get comfortable next to his former co-leader. Now that they were both without their hoversuits and stuck in these cheap, scratchy uniforms he wasn't sure he'd ever be comfortable again. 

“You certainly seemed _cozy_ last night,” Red crudely remarked, smirking suggestively.

Purple huffed, lightly hitting his arm in response. “Hmph. Wish we could take these stupid cuffs off. Makes it harder to touch you.”

Red shrugged before grabbing Purple’s cuffed wrist, eyeing it carefully. “I dunno, I kinda like them.”

The former leader snatched his wrist back, cheeks warming slightly. “Never took you for the bondage type.”

“Learn something new every day, right?”

Purple flopped back against the pillow, defeated. “Can’t they upgrade us to like a fancy room or something?”

“This is a ship, dumbass, not a hotel.”

“Whatever. I still think there should be better accommodations. We’re precious cargo and we should be treated like it!” Purple declared as he grabbed the remote, lazily flipping through the prerecorded programs that the TV offered. “Being a prisoner sucks.”

“What was your first clue?” Red retorted. “Just relax for now. I’m sure Min has everything under control- hopefully. If we manage to strike a deal with them then we’ll get out of this scot-free, and eventually gain back control of the Empire.”

“But what about the Control Brains?” Purple asked worriedly. “If we do make it back, they’ll strip us of our powers! We won’t be the Tallest anymore! We’ll be like, like… _table-headed service drone Bob!_ Or worse, we’ll be deactivated!”

Red’s eyes widened as he took in Purple’s words- the other Irken was right, to an extent. But surely they wouldn’t be so cruel as to dispose of them, right? Perhaps they'd face some sort of punishment for incompetence, but not _deactivation_ \- nothing so dire as that. _Right?_ “They won’t get rid of us that easily. Besides, once they see that we have control of the Empire then they’ll have to trust us again! Besides, we’re the Tallest, we still hold _some_ power.”

“Not anymore we aren’t,” Purple reminded him. “We handed our power over to Min, remember? As of right now, she’s the ruler of Irk.”

Red waved a dismissive hand. “That was temporary. She never went through the ceremony. We gave her power because without a leader, lower Irkens don’t know how to function. They need someone to guide them, to tell them what to do. That's all that was.”

Purple made a soft humming noise in acknowledgment, settling back down next to him. “So that means we’re sticking with Plan A, then?”

“Yes. As of right now, Plan A officially goes into motion.”

The former Tallest leaned over to play with his co-leader’s antennae. “…Can Plan A wait for a few hours?”

Red swatted his hand away, but not before smirking heatedly at Purple. “Alright,” he acquiesced, “a few more hours, then.”

* * *

“You really think I should?”

“Of course,” Infera said, nodding excitedly. Dib watched the curled ends of her peach-colored hair sway and bounce excitedly as she moved. “I think you’d be a great help. You and Atra know the most about that chip, after all. You’ll be a great help to them.” Her ecstatic expression suddenly contorted to one of worry, her thin brows furrowing together. “Speaking of which, where is Atra? I went to go find her after the raid, but I couldn’t find her anywhere… she’s alright, isn’t she?”

_God_. He’d been so preoccupied with Zim that he hadn’t even noticed. He’d meant to look for her, to talk to her about making a new chip on Meekrob, but after what happened-

He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that right now. He had a job to do. Now that it was a race against the clock, he didn’t have the time to dedicate to worrying about Zim. Although it certainly didn’t stop him from having sleepless nights, wondering what Zim was thinking, what he was feeling. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the overwhelming emotion he must be going through- this whole thing was still new to him. Would he be able to handle it enough to be a soldier?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where she is either. I meant to look for her, but I never got the chance.”

“I’ll have to try and call her when I can,” Infera noted out-loud. “Anyway, think about it. Lard Nar isn’t going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but they really need you out there. You’re vital to this mission.”

“…I know,” Dib reassured her. “I know. I’m not going anywhere. But, I mean, does Lard Nar… uh, will Meekrob really just help us? I know we’re partnered with them, but they’re at _war_ … do they _really_ have the resources?”

Infera frowned. “We’re all on the same side here, they’d be stupid _not_ to jump at anything that could take down the Irken Empire.”

“Yeah, but… we don’t know the whole story, you know? We don’t know why Meekrob and Irk have been at war for so long, and we don’t know what Meekrob’s motives are. For all we know, they could be just as bad as Irk!”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “One problem at a time, Dib,” she advised. “We’ll cross that bridge when- _if_ we come to it. Right now they’re the best chance we’ve got, so we have to take it.”

“…Okay,” Dib finally said, despite his sudden growing hesitation. “I understand.”

“Good. Now come on, lunch will be up soon. We should get there before the good stuff runs out.”

Dib had to admit, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the alien cuisine served on this ship, but now that he’d been here for a few months, he was starting to adapt. Actually, most of the time it wasn’t even that bad.

But he’d be damned if he wasn’t craving a cheeseburger right about now.

As he stood in line with his tray, waiting to move up to where the food was served, he couldn't help but scan through the cafeteria. These soldiers, who had all become so familiar to him- eating together, chatting and laughing like they didn't have a care in the world. It almost reminded him of school, but... _better_. _Way_ better. 

His eyes suddenly caught a familiar pair he knew all too well, and he couldn't tear his gaze away. 

Zim wasn't eating.

Not that he needed to, but ever since his PAK issues had started up, he'd developed cravings, and at times eating helped to alleviate the exhaustion he often felt. But now it was just like it had been before, where he would get a tray of food just to feed it to Gir, watching as the robot happily ate whatever he'd given to him. The Irken rested his cheek in his palm, tracing patterns with his finger on the table, and  _fuck_ he looked so goddamn-

"Dib! You coming?" 

"Y-Yeah," Dib said, reluctantly ripping his eyes away from Zim. "Coming." 

A part of him wished that Zim was watching too. 

* * *

No one was allowed to know the names of those who ran the Grand Council. They were simply referred to as “The Ones”, or _Ses Ouns._

They rarely made appearances, even in the capital building. Any trials or meetings were often done via audio call. However, seeing how this was the return of a war criminal, The Ones felt it was necessary to make an appearance in person.

“So as not to cloud your judgment, and to keep you from beholding the true form of The Ones, throughout the duration of this hearing you will not be able to use your Sight. However, to be sure of that, you will be required to remove your eyes. Do you consent?”

Removing one’s eyes was not a difficult or painful task for a being that could change their shape at will. Rather, it was more inconvenient than excruciating. It was not unheard of, either. She'd heard stories of people permanently losing their Sight after coming into contact with The Ones. “I consent,” she said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Then, after a deep breath, she closed her eyes, allowing the shape and form of what had once been her eyes to slowly sink back into her head. The blue sclera that made up her eyes quickly faded into the pale white shine of her face, leaving nothing but the slightest hint of a mouth and the faintest outline of eye sockets.

“Can you hear us, Ms. Astralle?”

“Yes.”

“Can you speak properly when spoken to?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then do you swear on your life that throughout this hearing with The Ones, you will be truthful?”

“I swear.”

“Very well. Then by the power vested in me as manager of this scared hall, I declare that this hearing has officially begun!” He paused to take a few steps. “You all may enter now, my masters.”

Black. Pitch black. Nothingness. Not even the faintest hint of color from passing daydreams or visions. Without her eyes, any powers that she once held were gone. The feeling of helplessness might kill her before The Ones did.

Atra could not hear them walk, couldn’t hear or see them do anything. But she knew all too well that they had entered the room. Their presence was overpowering, domineering in every possible way. If she were a creature that needed to breathe, she would’ve suffocated by now.

The Ones dare not dirty themselves with other languages, so they only spoke in their native tongue rather than the more popular languages that had spread throughout the universe. It had been so long since she’d spoken her native tongue. She’d have to pay close attention in order to translate properly.

“Stand,” they ordered. They all spoke in perfect time with each other. Now she understood why the legends always said that if anyone who didn’t understand their language heard The Ones speak, they would go mad.

Atra slowly rose to her feet, placing her hands behind her back.

“Bow.”

She bowed forward without hesitation, but was cautious not to trip over herself since she was without her vision. She’d gained a reputation on her old squad of being quite the klutz.

“Sit.”

She sat back down, as smoothly and neatly as she possibly could without her vision, keeping her shoulders upright and her posture correct. If there was one upside to this situation, it’s that her expression was nearly impossible to read now that she had no eyes. Not that The Ones cared how she was feeling, anyway.

“Atrana Astralle, you are charged with using your Sight without permission from _Ses Ouns_ , abandoning your station and your comrades, and leaving the planet without permission from _Ses Ouns_. Do you understand your charges?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“As a result of your actions, many of your comrades died. You went against orders and acted foolishly on your own. We lost many skilled soldiers because of your incompetence. Do you recognize this, and accept responsibility for your actions?”

Atra wanted to breathe now more than ever. Breathe, _breathe_ , _breathe_. “Yes,” she choked out. “I recognize and accept responsibility for my actions.”

“As per Meekrob law, you shall be allowed an opportunity to explain yourself. Should you choose not to speak, your punishment shall be decided on immediately.”

“I will choose to speak, my masters.”

“Very well. You may begin.”

She reached out to grab at the desk she was seated at, fingers curling around the metal edges to keep herself grounded as she spoke. “I… will not attempt to justify my actions. What I did was reprehensible. As the leader, the deaths of my comrades lies on my shoulders. Had I not acted rashly, they might still be alive now. I wanted so badly to prove myself, to show everyone that the Sight that we’ve been living in fear of is a blessing. But I see now why we have these laws in place. The Sight is not set in stone; the path of the future is always ever-changing. I understand that now more than ever, and it is why I am here before you today. I have come back not to ask forgiveness, but to try and do one thing right. In exchange for me, I ask that you assist my friends in taking down a mutual enemy: the Irken Empire.”

“Your… friends?” they asked, as if they didn't understand the word.

“Yes, my comrades- you may know them as the Resisty. They are coming here with a special weapon that they believe can take down the Control Brains, but they cannot do it without your assistance. But I knew you wouldn’t help them willingly, and that you would find me anyway once we came here. So I offer myself to you, and I will accept any punishment you have for me, so long as you agree to help.”

“The Irken Empire has been an enemy of ours for ages.”

“Yes, that is why I ask for your help, to put an end to their reign once and for all.”

The Ones were silent for a moment. Atra wasn’t sure if they were communicating among themselves telepathically, but even if they were, she wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway. Their psychic links were strong and didn’t allow others to listen in.

“We will accept your offer on the condition that you remain on Meekrob for the rest of your days. You are incompetent as a soldier, so you will spend your time in _Ses Insera_ , where you will be rehabilitated. Once you have been deemed useful again we will return you to your former soldier status. Do you accept this?”

The Institute. Rehab for the useless members of Meekrob society. Ah, well. She was expecting death. She must’ve caught them when they were feeling particularly merciful. “I accept.”

“Very well. Then this hearing is adjourned. Soldier Zevven, escort her to _Ses Insera.”_

“Yes, my masters.”

* * *

“How long will it take to repair the engines?”

“It shouldn’t be much longer, my Tallest. We should have them up and running within the next few hours.”

“Good. Now begone with you, your presence is repulsive.” Min waved the young soldier away, her face scrunching in disgust.

“Yes my Tallest.”

Before she was Tallest, she was weak. A sniveling coward that bowed before her Tallest and did whatever they asked without question. Not even a hint of a backbone within her. But now that she had been appointed as leader, she would certainly take good advantage of it. Many had pointed out that this position was only temporary, that a lot of Irkens were still loyal to their former Tallests. Not only had those soldiers been promptly thrown out the airlock, but she had reassured the ones that promised their loyalty to her. As long as she was still alive, Red and Purple would never get their throne back. She’d been overlooked for far too long to possibly give this up.

“My Tallest, we are receiving an incoming transmission from… Earth?”

_“Earth,”_ Min drawled. “I’ve heard of that place before- that’s the planet that was giving the last two idiots trouble, was it not? Answer it.”

The monitor went fuzzy for a moment, struggling to pick up the rather weak signal. Growing frustrated, Min reached to turn it off, but paused when she noticed an image starting to come in. Eventually the static faded and the image of an Irken began to take shape.

“My Tallest!” she exclaimed. “Thank goodness I could finally get a hold of… you…” Realization began to dawn on her as she set eyes on the unfamiliar Irken. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the Irken _dressed_ like a Tallest- pink metal hoversuit and all. “Hold on a second… _you_ aren’t the Tallest! How did you get access to that room?”

Min grinned wickedly. “I suppose you didn’t get the message then? Tallests Red and Purple have been… fired. The Irken Empire is under new management, and you’re looking at your new Tallest.”

Tak's jaw dropped, antennae lifting slightly. “Under new management? But that’s not possible! There would’ve been a ceremony, I-I would’ve been _informed_ about this!”

“My apologies, er… what’s your name?”

“Tak. My name is _Tak_.”

“Tak! Oh yes, I remember hearing of you! What are you doing on that dirtball? Last I heard, you failed your invader’s exam, so you shouldn’t be on any enemy planets,” she chided, clicking her tongue, as if she were yelling at a small child. “Come to think of it, Earth isn’t even an enemy planet, though it does seem to be a topic of interest nowadays. Are you fooling around over there?”

Tak’s usually sharp eyes widened, twitching with irritation at her implication. “Wha- _no!_ My ship crashed here! Look, my Tallest, _please_ , I need some equipment to fix my ship so I can get off this rock and get back to Irk!”  

“Oh, about that... no can do. I’m a bit… preoccupied at the moment, you see. Don’t have time to worry about random Irkens stuck on random planets- people to enslave, planets to conquer- you know how it is.” She fought back a chuckle. “Please do enjoy your stay on planet Earth, and uh- don’t call again.”

“What?! You can’t do this to me! I… I was an elite! You can’t just leave me stranded here!”

“Oh but I can, and I will." Min cheerily waved goodbye at her. "Ta-ta now, and have fun with the humans! I’m sure they’ll _love_ performing all kinds of experiments on an alien.”

With that, the call was quickly cut.

* * *

Min's maniacal cackling rang like bells in her head as her wrist communicator abruptly dropped the call. A new Tallest? There wasn't a new Tallest expected for at least another hundred years! There's no way she was taller than the last two Tallests, right? She didn't appear to be, but those hoversuits were rather good at manipulating one's perception of the wearer's height... 

“I’m guessing your call for help didn’t go so well?”

The human’s voice broke Tak out of her reverie. She abruptly turned around to face where Gaz languidly stood, leaning against the doorway, arms folded across her chest.

“No. It didn’t," Tak answered shortly. "If you’re here to laugh at me or say I told you so, then I don’t want to hear it.”

Gaz chuckled. “Tempting, but no. Just came to check on you. You seem a lot better now that you’re moving around.”

“Yes…” Tak trailed off, giving herself a quick once-over to inspect her wounds, “my injuries seem to be healing. But it won’t matter if I can’t get off this _rock..!”_

Gaz took a seat next to her on the bed, but was sure to keep a cautious, respectable distance between them. “So you really can’t fix your ship?”

“Not unless I have the parts, and the new Tallest won’t give them to me. What _happened_ while I was gone? How could the Tallest just _lose_ their throne like that?”

“I don’t know,” Gaz replied earnestly, “but- hey, _wait_ _a minute_. Your old ship. It’s still here.”

“Y-You still have it?!” Tak exclaimed, abruptly jumping to her feet. “Where is it?!”

“Well, it’s a little banged up, but my brother’s been working on it for years. You could probably get the parts you need from it. It’s in the garage.”

She smiled excitedly, antennae perking upwards eagerly. “Yes! I could salvage the parts from that ship and be out of here in no time!”

“One thing at a time,” Gaz warned. “If you run off now you might open your wounds back up, then you’ll be stuck here longer.”

Tak shot her a glare with the intention of simply ignoring her, but then a teasing smirk spread across her lips. “Is that so? Are you worried for me?”

“No,” Gaz quickly denied, the faintest hint of a blush dusting her cheeks, “just want you out of here quicker. Don’t be weird.”

“Mm,” she hummed, “I’m an alien from a faraway planet, I think that qualifies me as ‘weird’, no?”

“Touché,” Gaz admitted before rising to her feet. “The garage door is through the kitchen, down the steps and it’s the last door on your right. Do NOT go into my dad’s lab. He’s seriously weird about his stuff- he can tell if even the slightest thing is out of place.”

“You don’t need to worry- I don’t have an interest. Your father’s ideas are primitive at best.”

“I dunno, some of it can be pretty cool,” Gaz admitted. While she may not hold the same passion for science that Dib and her father held, she could respect what her father did for the scientific industry, not to mention he’d come up with many inventions over the year that the city had bought from him. No one could say he wasn’t good at his job.

“What about you?” Tak asked curiously. “Surely your father wants someone to take leadership over his company eventually?”

“Not me,” Gaz shook her head. “Not into stuff like that. At least, not like my brother is. I always thought Dib would take over for dad, but apparently he’s off in space fighting aliens, so…”

“Your brother is a fool,” Tak snapped. “It’s a miracle he’s survived as long as he has. Are he and Zim suddenly on speaking terms now?”

“I’d say _more_ than ‘speaking terms’,” Gaz muttered under her breath.

“Elaborate.”

Gaz deadpanned. “They’re _a thing._ You know, a _couple?”_

And then came the _second_ biggest shock of the day. “Y-You mean to say that your brother and Zim are in a romantic relationship?! _Zim?!”_

“I know. _Believe_ me, I know. Dib never said anything, but he didn’t have to. I could tell.”

“How?”

“By the way he talked about Zim.” Gaz said, shrugging absently. She suddenly looked down at her nails, as if she found something particularly interesting about them.

Tak decided not to pry further, despite her growing curiosity. “Human love is something beyond my understanding. How Zim managed it is nearly incomprehensible to me, but he always was unpredictable. I just didn’t think he’d take a _human_ for a mate.”

“Something wrong with human mates?” Gaz teasingly asked, clearly not expecting a serious answer.

Regardless, Tak gave her one. “Mating in general is, well… it’s discouraged, especially outside of our own kind. It’s only legal if we’re doing it with each other- though I have known more adventurous Irkens to go to shady planets to, er… claim mates.” She willed away the heat that was threatening to spread across her face. Why was she discussing such a topic with a human she barely knew?

Gaz couldn’t fight her smirk. “I didn’t ask for Irken sex ed. Thanks for that mental image.”

“Whatever.” Tak growled as she stood up and made her way to the door. “I need to get to work on fixing my ship.”

“Speaking of that, isn’t your ship crashed in the woods somewhere? What if someone saw it and stole it?”

Tak grinned almost cheekily, almost as if she were hoping she would ask. “Oh, that? It’s well hidden, I assure you. The Chameleon Circuit, a sneaky little trick we stole from one of our former allies. It allows our ship to blend into any surroundings effortlessly. It’ll be fine.”

“How come Zim’s ship didn’t have that ability?”

Tak held up her index finger. “Well, number one, his Voot Runner is an early model, and number two- he’s an idiot.”

“Oh. Well,” Gaz let out the smallest of laughs, “guess that explains it then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that we haven't been seeing much of zim or zim and dib lately, but we'll get to them very soon, I promise! 
> 
> p.s- there is art of both atra and now tallest min on my instagram at haileydoesart
> 
> p.s.s- whoever catches the reference towards the end gets a cookie!


	3. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Zim's condition worsens, the Resisty closes in on Meekrob. After realizing that Atra is trapped in the Capital, Dib enlists the help of his comrades to come up with a secret rescue mission.

It was not unlike Zim to rant and rave to Gir about anything and everything, whether it be about his hatred for humans or a particularly stressful day. He knew full well that Gir would not be able to understand his frustrations, but at least the robot was there to listen… sometimes, when he wasn’t off making food or drawing on the walls or doing some other inane _Gir_ thing.

Minimoose was a good listener too- actually, a _much_ better listener than Gir. _Why_ did he decide to leave him back on Earth again?

But now, as he sat in his bedroom staring up at the walls, he kept thinking back to how he used to vent to Dib- hell, ranting and raving was practically their whole relationship for a while, before the whole… romance-y aspect of it. He still didn’t quite get that part and he was almost certain that he never would, but that would be okay if he were here. Dib would’ve accepted that.

Revulsion curled in the pit of his squeedlyspooch. Revulsion towards Dib, for lying to him just like the Tallest had. But more than anything, he felt absolutely disgusted with himself. He had stooped so low as to become attached to a human. The Dib had made himself essential to him from the moment they met, even if he hadn’t realized it at the time. And now, he’d been tossed aside like common trash. Wasn’t that what humans did? Consume, consume, consume, throwing their waste everywhere until it contaminates the very ground they walk on, the air they breathe. Disgusting.

The fact that he’d even considered for a _second_ that he could be like a human…

Why was he protecting them anyway? Why try so hard for an ungrateful, lazy, and counterproductive race? Even if this was more of a revenge act than anything, he still couldn’t shake the confusion he felt at protecting the Earth and all the other pathetic little planets that already or will fall to the Irken Empire.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked aloud, without realizing the words had slipped past his mouth. “I’d thought for years I was better without the Dib… yet now that he’s not with me, everything’s blurry again. I don’t know. I don't know anything." 

Gir paused from his doodling, looking up at his master with concern. “Aww master, are yous sads again?!”

Frustrated, Zim tugged on his antennae, pulling hard enough that he felt them pop. “I don’t _know_ , that’s the problem! I don’t know _anything_ … and that only infuriates me more! I know… I am angry with the Dib for lying to me, but… I don’t know anything else! And I can’t help but feel like… like if he were here, I’d have the answers!”

Gir merely grinned childishly. “Master misses Mary!”

“Gir, that is by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I do not ‘miss’ him, I merely-“

Ignoring him, Gir excitedly clambered to his feet, throwing his hands up in the air and shouting at the top of his non-existent lungs. “Master misses Mary! Master misses Mary! Master-“

Zim was quick to silence him, abruptly tackling him to the ground, placing a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet Gir! Do you want the Dib to hear you?!”

Gir nodded from beneath Zim’s hand. With a defeated huff, Zim sat back, releasing his grip on Gir. “You’re hopeless.”

“Aww Master, do you need a hug?”

“No Gir, I do not need a… hug…”

The rest of the words died on his tongue. Before Zim could push him away, the little robot was already crawling onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him in a surprisingly tight embrace. “It’s gonna be alright Master! Mary’s a nice boy! He buys me food sometimes!”

Zim had forgotten that Gir had developed a sort of fondness for the Dib. He had never seen Dib as an enemy like he was supposed to all those years ago, but ever since he’d started hanging around Zim, Gir had quickly adopted Dib as one of his “friends”, even going as far as to pay him visits when Zim was busy and distracted. Dib never did seem to have the same hatred for his robot companion that he did for Zim himself.

Gir quickly grew bored of sitting on Zim’s lap, so the embrace was short-lived, but there was something about the feeling that Zim couldn’t shake. It caused a familiar feeling to rise within him, similar to what he felt when Dib hugged him. Similar, but not quite the same. What was different then? Was it because he had taken a romantic interest in Dib?

A romantic interest. Ha. The very idea of an Irken in love was laughable. It shouldn’t even be possible, but he supposed that since there was something wrong with his programming, somewhere along the line he’d developed the capability. Why, of all people, did he have to latch onto _Dib_? Oddly enough, when he was with the human these concerns didn’t even faze him, but now that he was alone…

He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry anymore. He’d wasted so much time being furious, conflicted over his feelings, never understanding what was happening. He was tired of not knowing. He just wanted it all to _stop_.

Zim slowly sat up, rubbing his aching temples. The sound of Gir’s crayons scratching along the walls was driving him mad. “Gir, would you _please_ quit-“

He was interrupted by a sudden intense coughing fit. He coughed violently into his sleeve to muffle the noise, lest anyone come bother him and ask if he was alright. His body shook and heaved, and when he finally recovered and regained his ability to breathe properly, he noticed the thick pink blood that had soaked into the fabric of his uniform, sticking to his arm.

“It’s getting worse, Gir,” Zim rasped as he wiped his mouth. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

If he were back on Earth, he would’ve been panicking, frantically running all kinds of tests to see what could possibly be wrong with him. But he didn’t need to. He knew exactly what was wrong; he just hadn’t realized it before. It was the same thing that had been wrong with him since the moment he was hatched.

Now it was all finally catching up to him.

* * *

“The old chip only had one virus. It was a strong one, but personally, I don’t think it would’ve been enough,” Infera explained, pointing to the hologram of the chip’s blueprints. “But if we overload it with plenty of viruses, then that should be more than enough to deactivate them completely.”

“That’s where Meekrob comes in,” Lard Nar added. “They will have the technology we need to create a brand new chip. A _better_ one.”

“But we have the easy part,” Dib said, almost somberly. “Making a new chip won’t be hard, especially with Meekrob’s help. The real challenge will be getting close to the Brains.”

Meosori raised a hand. “For that, I thought we could consult Meekrob’s military for advice. They have one of the strongest militias in the universe. I’m sure they have a good battle strategy we could use.”

“Good idea!” Lard Nar exclaimed. “We’re a bit pressed for time however, we need to be in and out of Meekrob within a few days. Can we do that?”

The whole room nodded, even if some people seemed to appear a bit more uncertain than others. Uncertainty seemed to be more and more common nowadays.

Dib had been excited about this, if not a bit skeptical, but now he wasn’t sure what to make of this. And despite it all, he wasn’t sure how he felt about willingly placing Zim in danger. But if he knew Zim then he knew that he would want to be the one leading this mission to take down the Control Brains, and he didn’t want to rob that from him.

He couldn’t risk hurting him more than he already had.

Dib snuck a glance over at the Irken from across the room. He almost felt like a kid again, staring at Zim, trying to learn all he could about him to determine his weaknesses. He was composed as usual, standing at attention. Dib found himself admiring how put together Zim was. He probably wasn’t nearly as conflicted about this as he was.

“Alright then, at our current speed we’ll be at Meekrob in 24 hours-“

_“Incoming transmission from Meekrob.”_

Everyone in the room abruptly fell silent as the monitor flashed with the question of accepting or denying the call. Lard Nar stood so he was directly in front of the monitor. “Accept.”

The screen went black, then fuzzy for a moment, before finally the image of a Meekrob began to take shape. The Meekrob didn’t look all that different from Atra, with mussed, wispy white hair that stuck out in all sorts of angles and sharp navy blue eyes.

_“My name is Commander Zevven. It has come to our attention that you are looking to seek refuge on our planet.”_

“We are looking for assistance to help take down a common enemy- the Irken Empire. I’m sure you heard all of this from her?” Lard Nar asked.

_“You mean the coward? Yes. She seems to care an awful lot about you all, should’ve seen the way she spoke during her hearing.”_ Zevven couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. _“Rest assured, she’s fine. For now. She’s at a rehabilitation center in the Capital, getting… reconditioned, for lack of a better word.”_

_“What?!”_ Infera abruptly shouted, slamming her fists down against the table. Papers, pens and books went flying into the air with the force of her anger. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?! Why didn’t _she_ tell me?!”

“She didn’t want anyone else to know,” Lard Nar calmly told her in an attempt to keep her from completely wrecking the ship in a fit of fury. “Please, you’re making a scene! We can discuss this later.”

“No, we’re going to discuss this _now_.” Infera stormed over to the monitor, roughly shoving Lard Nar out of the way. “Hey chuckles, you must have some kinda death wish messing with my friend.”

_“Oh, she’s feisty.”_ Zevven grinned. _“Awfully pretty for an Heirian.”_

Infera hissed, baring her fangs. Locks of her hair seemed to rise behind her like a snake preparing to strike its prey. “Oh when I get there I am _so_ gonna kick your ass! Just you wait; when I get done with you you’re gonna _wish_ you were dead!”

_“Can someone put the animal away? We’re trying to have a civilized discussion here.”_

Before Infera could lunge at the monitor, Meosori quickly scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Alright little missy, that’s quite enough of that.”

“Put me down!” she demanded, pounding against his back with her fists. “I’m trying to teach that slimy fucker not to mess with my friends!”

“We will, all in due time,” he reassured her as he carried her out of the room. “Believe me, it pisses me off too, but right now we need Meekrob’s cooperation, so that means we all have to put up and shut up. Got it?”

Lard Nar watched them leave, knowing full well that he had a fuming Infera waiting for him later. He cleared his throat, straightening his uniform. “I apologize for that… interruption. I can assure you we’re all looking to cooperate.”

_“Yes, well, after the nice gift you sent us, the Meekrob Grand Council was generous enough to welcome you, and will gladly assist you in whatever you need to help take down the Irken scum.”_

Lard Nar beamed. “That’s great news! We’re very grateful for your help- we’ll be there shortly!”

Zevven nodded. _“We’ll be expecting you.”_ And with that, the transmission quickly ended, the image of the commander fading into static.

“Make your preparations everyone, we’ll be arriving on Meekrob soon!”

_“Great. Just great,”_ Dib thought. Now he didn’t even have Atra to turn to. Did Lard Nar really just send her away like that, pawn her off in exchange for assistance? He’d always known how Atra felt about her home planet, how guilty she was for what she did, but he never imagined that she’d-

He closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. They would have to find her before they left Meekrob- they couldn’t just  _leave_ her there. She was probably in more danger _there_ than she was out in space.

He wouldn’t be able to pull something like that off alone, however. He would be busy doing work on the chip, and he certainly couldn’t ask Lard Nar for help, as he would most likely tell him not to go after her.

That really narrowed it down to only a few people who could help.

* * *

“Holy _shit_ , Dib’s gonna fucking _freak_ when he comes back and finds his ship in pieces.”

Tak’s antennae perked up in acknowledgment. “It was never his ship to begin with,” she pointed out, without turning around to face her. Frankly, she was far too busy to so much as give the girl the time of day, but Tak found that she didn’t mind answering Gaz’s questions- they were less invasive-unlike Dib, always so upfront and in your face with everything. She could admire that about her- the fact that she always seemed to ask the right questions.

“Fair point,” Gaz admitted as she seated herself on the stool next to the door.

“Thanks to your brother, I had to completely rework the personality interface,” Tak grumbled as she tinkered with the wires in the bottom panel.

“I thought he already reset it.”

“He did, but he didn’t do it correctly. There’s still traces of him in here," she said, scrunching her face in disgust.

“Eww.” She paused to take a sip of her soda. “Hey, I meant to ask, can you handle being here by yourself tonight?”

“I suppose, why do you ask?”

“Well, dad’s taking off early tonight to take me to dinner, and then I’m going out with a couple of friends. It’s my eighteenth birthday,” she said, trying not to outwardly show how glad she was to finally have a night out with her father. Ever since Dib left he hadn’t been the same, and she was surprised to see his absence take such a toll on him. She knew he would’ve liked to have Dib with them to celebrate. She could only hope he would actually follow through this time and remember to come home.

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Tak asked, her eyes narrowing.

Sometimes Gaz forgot she was talking to an alien. “Birthdays are kind of a big deal on Earth, especially your 18th. It means you’re legally an adult.”

Tak huffed. “Please. We’re shipped off to the academy as soon as we’re out of hatching. Yet you humans have to wait 18 _years_ to be considered grown in society? You really are a pathetic race.”

“Insulting my species again,” Gaz warned, and Tak simply huffed again.

“Well, I suppose it’s no matter. Time moves much slower on Irk, eighteen of _your_ years would go by on Irk in the blink of an eye.”

“Well, how old are _you_ then?” Gaz inquired curiously.

“Me? Well, let’s see…” Tak tapped her chin, “in Earth time, I’m about three hundred years old.”

_“Three hundred?_ We’re lucky if we make it to a hundred here on earth. Like, _really_ lucky.”

Tak dropped the tools she was holding. “Seriously? My life’s not even half over! How is it that you humans perish so quickly?”

“I don’t know, if something else doesn’t kill us first we just… die of old age, like everything else.” Gaz jumped off the stool, stretching. “I’m gonna go ahead and leave you to do whatever… that is..." she trailed off, waving her hand in a vague gesture.

“Wait!” Tak turned around to look at her, almost as if she were panicked.

“What?”

“How could something kill you before old age? I mean, I would understand if you humans were involved in intergalactic warfare like Irkens, but…”

“It’s not just warfare that can kill you,” Gaz started, growing more uncomfortable by the second at the sudden change of topic. “Lots of things can. Illness, dehydration, starvation, hypothermia… a whole bunch of things.”

Tak blinked as she took in this foreign information. Her PAK had always provided her with everything she’d ever needed- nourishment, medical assistance, warmth for the bitter cold and coolness for the scorching heat. She was impervious to hunger, to thirst, to illness, all of these things that could bring a human to the brink of death. “I see… you humans don’t have anything to provide that for you. You have to get your needs yourself, and if you don’t have them, then you die.”

Gaz averted her eyes, unintentionally tensing her muscles. “…This conversation’s gotten weird, I’m going upstairs.”

“…so fragile…” she murmured.

That got Gaz to pause. “What?”

“Fragile,” Tak repeated, a bit louder this time. “Humans are fragile.”

Gaz rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I get it, we’re weak, can you drop it already? I’ve heard the same speech from Zim a million times and it gets annoying.”

“No, I mean… I did not mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I…” Tak looked down to fiddle with the hem of her uniform, antennae drooping. “I’m… not really sure…” She turned back around to her former ship and refocused on where she had been working. “Just forget it. Go and do your birthing day thing or whatever.”

_Okay_. Weird.

If Gaz didn't know any better, she might say that Tak is a bearable alien to have around.

* * *

“You want us to do _what now?”_

“I know it sounds crazy,” Dib said, “but I think she’s in trouble, and you guys are the only ones that I know who’ll help me.”

“You’re talking about going behind the captain’s back and carrying out a secret mission on one of the most dangerous planets in the universe,” Darli pointed out flatly, folding his arms across his chest.

“I don’t know the whole story, but for whatever reason, Lard Nar is oddly okay with Atra just… _being captured_. She’s my friend and she saved my life, so now I want to save hers. The problem is, well, I can’t go myself. I have to stay and work on the chip.”

“Why don’t you just ask Zim, or that hothead Infera to help you?” Zena asked, smirking slightly. “She and Atra were friends, were they not?”

“Yeah, but Infera is the head hacker, she has to be there with me as well. Not to mention, I don’t think she’s right for this kind of mission. As for Zim, well…” Dib trailed off, unsure of how to say that right now there was no way in hell that Zim would help him.

“Lovers’ quarrel?” Fruo asked.

Dib’s cheeks heated as he averted the group’s curious stares. “Something like that.”

“Maybe you should go talk to Zim,” Dei suggested. “If you two talked things out, I’m sure he’d be willing to help us!”

“Dei and I have our little fights sometimes, but we always make up afterwards. It’s better to do that than to let those feelings fester. Believe me, they’ll only get worse over time,” Fruo advised, smiling warmly at Dei.

It wasn’t like Dib hadn’t considered knocking on Zim’s door and apologizing a thousand times. More than anything he wanted to apologize to Zim. He knew he had messed up, even if he was just trying to be rational. But Zim did not forgive easily, if at all. Earning his forgiveness would be a long road that he didn’t know if he could travel on just yet. “No, you guys don’t understand, I… I really fucked up. This isn’t something we can just fix in a day. Besides, Zim, he… he’s supposed to be interrogating the Tallest once we land on Meekrob. I don’t think he’ll be able to help either. I’m sorry.”

The group was silent for a moment, all of them looking at him with what could only be pity. Dib hated that look. It was the same look he used to get when he was a kid. From his dad, from some of the other students, from the teachers. _That poor, insane kid. Someone get him some help._

He didn’t want to be pitied. He just wanted to save his friends and hopefully survive long enough to see the Earth again.

“So then, what’s the plan?” Zena asked, finally breaking the tense silence. Dib had to fight back a sigh of relief.

“Okay, so here’s what you’re going to do.”


	4. Civil War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim attempts to interrogate the Tallest, but unfortunately for him it doesn't come without consequences. Meanwhile Dib puts his plan to rescue Atra into motion, and Atra begins to learn what Zevven and the Meekrob Grand Council have in store for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sorry for the wait 
> 
> aNYWAY I have an important announcement to make: this fic will be going on hiatus until after the holidays are over. I always get extremely busy around this time so I figured it'd be best to just go ahead and put this fic on the backburner until I really have time to sit down and work on it. but fear not, the next chapter will be out sometime in early january 2019!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

The Institute was a place for the Defectives, as Atra had come to learn. It baffled her that Meekrob had promised to protect the defectives on Irk, those broken Irkens who had been considered “wrong”. For years many of her kind had fought and argued for their rights, their freedom as individuals, teaching them that it was okay to embrace their differences. Yet here they were, adopting those same policies and applying them to the Meekrob people.

It wasn’t fair. It negated everything that they had believed in for centuries.

The Insitute also doubled as a research lab, as she had also come to find out. As she was escorted to her holding cell she noticed the other Meekrob soldiers in labcoats not too unlike her own, running tests on their own kind, expressionless as always.

“Why are they doing that?” she asked aloud.

Neither Zevven nor the other soldiers answered her. She struggled against her cuffs, wriggling in the grasp of her captors. “Answer me! I’m at least owed that much!”

With a snarl, Zevven abruptly turned around and fisted his hand in the fabric of her uniform, yanking her upwards so she was face to face with him. Upon being so close she couldn't help but notice that he was almost growling, almost like an animal. “You are owed _nothing!”_ he bellowed. “You are a traitor!”

“I know that,” she said defiantly, refusing to break eye contact, “but locking people up like animals… by doing this we’re no better than the Irkens.”

Zevven huffed and abruptly released her, shoving her back into the hold of the other soldiers. Resigned, Atra fell silent; bowing her head as they finally reached their destination.

Using a keycard, Zevven opened the door before quickly pushing her inside, tossing her onto the floor as if she weighed nothing. “I’ll be back later,” he said gruffly before promptly shutting and locking the door, leaving her alone with the darkness.

Atra had never been afraid of the dark- it was a silly concept really, and she had laughed when Dib had told her that it was a common fear among human children. He had then went on to clarify that it wasn’t necessarily the darkness itself they were afraid of- it was what lurked within. But now that she sat alone within its chilling embrace, she began to think that perhaps that fear wasn’t so ludicrous after all.

* * *

“Are you sure about this? If you’re not comfortable, I can do it.”

“No no, this is fine. Zim will handle it. Besides, I’m sure you have _captain_ things to do.”

Lard Nar nodded once, adjusting his goggles so they sat tighter on his face. “Very well. I’ll leave you to it then. Feel free to stop whenever you’d like. I have to go meet with Commander Zevven and the Grand Council, but Vythani and the others will still be here if you need something.”

Zim’s eyes narrowed as he abruptly turned around to face him. “Do not treat Zim like a child. I already said I could handle it. Now begone with you!”

Lard Nar’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly as if he were preparing to chastise him for talking back to his commanding officer, but he didn’t. He merely nodded again and left the room, the door shutting softly behind him.

“That was awfully _rude,_ Zim,” a voice he knew all too well taunted. “You’ve got some nerve speaking to your captain like that.”

Zim didn’t answer him. He took a few steps forward, away from the door, before pulling up a spare chair and seating himself across from his two former leaders.

“He’s gonna try the strong silent type thing now,” Red teased, elbowing his co-leader with a chuckle. He cleared his throat, speaking like he would while he was Tallest. “Alright Zim, you have us right where you want us. What do you want to know?”

Even looking at them now, Zim fought the burning urge to free them. It was not something he wanted, nor something he would do, but his old instincts that he’d carried with him all his life were screaming at him, repeating like a mantra in his head. _Perhaps he might stand a chance at escaping execution if he helped rescue his Tallest._

He shook his head. He was beyond that now- and he could never return to it, no matter how badly a part of him might want to.

Zim’s eye twitched. “Zim knows that you would not willingly hand yourselves over unless you have something planned. Will you tell me or do I have to drag it out of you?”

The Tallest had never been very good at plans- typically they left that part up to their subordinates- the elites. Zim knew not to expect much from them, and he sincerely doubted that they had some master plan up their sleeves. If they did, he would've seen through it already. But he wanted to wring every drop of information out of them, get as much as he could. They were cowards, and no coward was fit to be Tallest. Amused, Zim couldn't help but think that they might have done the Irken people a favor, handing their power over to Min.

Red leaned forward, grinning. “I’ll let you in on a little secret Zim- there _is_ no other plan- not really. Tallest Min is already on her way back to Irk, and once she gets there, this charade of yours is over.”

Zim mirrored his grin, resting his cheek against his gloved hand. “You know, by Irken law, if a Tallest willingly hands their power over to another Irken, that power automatically becomes theirs until another, taller Irken comes along and claims the throne. Do you really think Tallest Min is going to hand her power back to you two?”

“Those rules mean nothing,” Red argued, a hint of defensiveness dripping into his tone. “They’re just another way for the Control Brains to keep you all in line!”

“Yes, and ‘you all’ includes the two of you now, as well. Because now that you’ve handed your powers over, the Control Brains will not recognize you as worthy of their protection anymore.  Right now, you are no more powerful than I am.”

Red struggled against his binds. “And you really think there aren’t still factions loyal to us? When are you gonna realize, Zim? The politics don’t matter- they’ve _never_ mattered! Once we take back control of Irk, all the other Irkens will naturally fall into line, and the Control Brains will be none the wiser.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Word has spread, and things aren’t quite the same since you two were captured. Like you said, factions _are_ forming. Zim doesn’t think he needs to explain what that means.”

Purple scoffed. “You’re underestimating them, Zim. If you think the entire Irken race is going to take the _rebel_ side, then you’re more screwed up than we thought. Which, was like, a lot.”

Zim ignored his remark, his smile only widening as he stood up, circling around the two prisoners with an almost predatory glimmer in his eyes. “Zim thinks it is the opposite. I think _you_ are underestimating them.”

“You really seem to have a lot of faith in them. Ironic, considering how many of your own kind you killed just so you could be an invader.” 

Zim laughed dryly. _That’s_ what they thought this was about? His _people?_ He wasn’t some sort of- what was it they called it on Earth? _Hero_. He was no hero. In fact, for years he considered himself quite the opposite. He couldn’t care less about saving the Irken race. They could burn for all he cared. “Zim’s “people” mean nothing. Not anymore. Frankly, Zim doesn’t care whether they choose to follow the rebellion or not. It makes little difference. But it’s as you said, it’s much easier if they… ‘fall into line’.”

“Good to see you haven’t changed much then,” Red quipped. “You’re still just as much of a menace to the Irken race as you’ve always been. Looks like being on Earth didn’t affect you as much as we thought it would.”

“Speaking of Earth, what happened to your human pet?” Purple asked, eyes filled with curiosity, though even Zim could tell it was hardly a sincere question.

He finally paused his pacing to stand at attention, heaving a sigh. “The human is not of import. Zim is growing impatient. Are you two going to tell me where exactly the Control Brains are located?”

“You should know it quite well, you’ve been before,” Red insisted, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Unless… it’s really that bad already, huh?”

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zim lied.

“You’re a bad liar Zim. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a Defective- actually, you’re a bit further beyond _just_ defective… how about you tell us how your PAK’s been treating you lately?”

Zim bit down on his bottom lip, antennae twitching ever so slightly. “That’s none of your business.”

“Let me guess- you’re feeling like you need to eat and sleep, things you never had to worry about before. In fact, it’s amazing that you’re not sick or dead- most Irkens with PAK’s as broken as yours don’t live very long.”

Zim visibly flinched at the word “sick”- and he was hoping they weren’t keen enough to notice. No such luck, unfortunately.

“You _are_ getting sick!” Purple practically beamed, as if he were overjoyed. “You must not have told your new friends yet…”

_“Silence!”_ Zim yelled, fists clenching so tightly at his sides that he feared his claws would break through the gloves and puncture his skin. “Zim will not stand for this- _mmph!”_

No. _No no no no_. Not here.

Not now.

Not in front of _them_ -

It couldn't be helped.

Zim placed a hand over his mouth as he doubled over in agony, coughing violently into his hand. Pink blood seeped out from between his fingers and trailed down his arms, staining his gloves and uniform. His body roughly jerked forward with every cough, and he could feel the scalding heat of the Tallests’ critical and scrutinizing stare.

_How humiliating._

When he finally recovered, he staggered a bit, chest heaving, but managed to keep from falling to his knees. His antennae rung for a moment, his vision blurred, and when his hearing and eyesight were finally restored he noticed his former leaders snickering between themselves, whispering to each other like the schoolchildren used to do in the hallways.

“That’s a nasty cough,” Purple noted. “How long do you think he has?”

“Mm… maybe… a couple months? That’s being generous, honestly.”

_“Silence!”_ Zim ordered again. “A couple months is more than enough time. The Empire _will_ fall, and Zim will make sure you will be there to witness its end. Now then…” he reached for the weapon he’d brought with him- a long metal shock device with two prongs at the end- and clicked the on button. The machine came to life, sparking almost threateningly. “You will tell Zim _everything_ you know about the Control Brains.”

“And if we refuse?”

“Well…” Zim slowly stalked forward until the weapon was pressed directly against Red’s chest. “Zim is not sure that that would be very wise. It would be in both of your best interests to cooperate. So I will ask you again, one more time.” His finger hovered over the button, daring to press down. “Tell me _everything_ you know about the Control Brains.”

* * *

“And you’re sure about this?”

Dib nodded. “Yes. I’m sure. I’ll cover for you if Lard Nar asks about you, just- get back here with Atra as quickly as you can.”

“Frankly, Lard Nar is the _least_ of my worries,” Fruo muttered with a huff, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah, we’ll just break into a maximum security institution and be _quick_ about it.” Zena rolled her eyes. “Dib, this is _insane_ , even for you. Are you sure you don’t want Zim to come along, or maybe we could spend some more time coming up with a plan that’s slightly less likely to get us all killed? You do understand that if we get caught it could ruin everything, right? Meekrob could refuse to help us, _then_ we get stuck here, and _then_ Tallest Min beats us to Irk!”

“Look, it’s not like I don’t want to help, alright?” Dib snapped. “I would if I could, you all know that. But if I’m gone then it raises suspicion and then we’re _definitely_ in trouble. I don’t mean to dump all of this on you guys, but… Atra is a comrade. We can’t just leave her behind.”

Darli put a gentle hand on Dib’s shoulder. “Dib, I understand how you’re feeling, but from my understanding this was Atra’s choice, and this is _her_ home. Should we not at least consider respecting her wishes?”

Dib felt a sudden rush of anger sweep over him at those words. “No way. Atra may have thought she was helping us when she did that, but she’s felt guilty about what happened in her past for years. I won’t let her punish herself like that. It’s not fair to her and it’s not fair to the people around her.” He drew in a long breath to calm himself. “Look, you guys don’t have to do this if you don’t think you can. I can’t force you to do anything. But I’m asking you to at least consider it. For her sake.”

Fruo and Dei exchanged concerned looks before nodding at each other, cheery smiles spreading across their faces.

“Hey, no one ever said we were bailing on you,” Fruo said reassuringly.

“We just want to be sure before we do this,” Dei added. “You’re right. Atra is our comrade, and as soldiers it’s our responsibility to help. No one gets left behind.”

“Understood,” Zena acquiesced with a sigh. “I suppose we might as well. Besides, Infera will kill me if I don’t do this.”

“Infera _can’t_ find out about this- at least, not until Atra’s been rescued,” Dib warned. “She’ll go fucking ballistic if she knows I planned a rescue mission without her.”

“’Ballistic’ is a good word for her,” Darli said teasingly. “Very well. We’ll be in touch, Dib. Give us progress updates on the chip as well. Hopefully everything goes well with the Meekrob Grand Council.”

“Lard Nar is in a meeting with them now to discuss the details. Everything seems to be going smoothly so far- and at this rate we can hopefully get the chip done quickly.”

Darli nodded and placed both hands on Dib’s shoulders, looking up at him with an uncharacteristically soft smile. “Dib, I wish you the best of luck. You are a very capable soldier. Although, if I can offer you a bit of advice…" he trailed off, silently asking for permission with his eyes.

"Oh, uh, sure. Go ahead." 

"Your argument with Zim. It’s stupid. You should speak to him and sort out this matter. I can sense your tension whenever you’re both in the room and it’s distracting.”

Dib blinked slowly as he processed his words. He never thought he’d be getting love advice from _Darli_ of all people. But upon registering the word “tension” his cheeks immediately went about five different shades of red. “W-Wait- _tension?_ N-Not like _that_ kind of tension, right? I mean, we’re not _that_ obvious-“

Darli tilted his head and smiled teasingly, eyes glittering with something that Dib couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Just a bit- although my kind is highly empathetic and sensitive to emotions like longing and pining. You two are practically walking beacons to each other, yet the only ones who can’t see that are the two of you, oddly enough.”

Dib had always thought of Darli as one of the most unemotional beings he’d ever met, so to hear him say that he was actually quite the opposite was a surprise. Nonetheless, the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if maybe he should finally buck up and talk to the object of his reluctant affections- that is, if Zim would let him anywhere near without threatening him.

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Atra wasn’t quite sure what “reconditioning” entailed- but she knew it wasn’t as easy as, say, reconditioning an Irken. All it took to fix a broken Irken was a few adjustments to the PAK. Her people were not quite like that. They were not part computer, nor were they all flesh and blood- they couldn’t be subjected to any kind of reconditioning via physical torture or reprogramming. If torture was really what was going on here, then just _how..?_

She supposed she’d be finding out soon enough.

As if on cue, the door was unlocked and pulled open, the light from the hallway spilling into the room. Zevven stood, tall and at attention as usual in the doorway. “Hello _captain.”_

“Tell me what’s going on here Zevven,” Atra demanded, refusing to allow herself to be intimidated. “This- this isn’t _right_. Last I checked, we were not _animals._ We don’t believe in imprisonment of our own kind.”

Zevven stepped inside the holding cell, the door closing behind him. “I'm afraid things have changed since your disappearance, Miss Astralle. The Meekrob you left behind was weak, and the one you’ve so graciously returned to is now ready to finally defeat the Irken Empire once and for all.”

“And will it stop there?” Atra inquired. “With the Irken Empire? Don’t you see? We’re becoming just like them! How long before _we_ decide that other species are inferior and deserve to be conquered? How long before rebellions form against _us?”_

Zevven’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his jaw clenching. He tangled his hand into her hair and  _pulled,_ dragging her closer to his darkened face. “And what do you think this institute is for?!” he snapped. _“Our_ actions did not start a rebellion Atra. _Yours_ did.”

Time stopped, and with it stopped her struggling.

The hands that were trying so desperately free herself from his grasp dropped to her sides, her body seemingly going limp in his hold. 

“Why do you think we created this institute? After what you did, people started seeing you as an _inspiration_. What you see around you is a _result_ of _your_ insubordination. These people are here because of _you!_ If you had just followed orders like you were supposed to, all of this could’ve been avoided! But instead you decided you wanted to be something you’re not, and now look at how many people tried to follow in your footsteps.” Zevven sidestepped, gesturing to the room around them. “Look at where it’s gotten them. Imprisoned like war criminals.”

He roughly pulled his hand out of her wispy, tousled hair. “Now do you see? You’ve done nothing to stop the Irken Empire. Just like how factions are forming on Irk, they’re forming _here_ as well. A civil war is brewing.”

Atra was quick to increase the distance between them. “Civil war?! That’s not possible; we haven’t had a civil war in thousands of years!”

“And who do we have to thank for that?” Zevven replied shortly. His annoyed expression quickly morphed into something far more sinister as he approached her slowly, prompting her to take a few cautionary steps backwards. With a smirk she was then slammed against the wall, Zevven’s now clawed hands curling around her throat. If she’d needed to breathe, she’d certainly be dead by now.

“But that’s alright, Captain Astralle. Because you’re going to make up for it by finishing what you started. You’re going to end the civil war before it even begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading so far, and I wish you all happy holidays! see you in 2019!


	5. No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Dib ponders his next moves, both with Zim and the chip, Zevven reveals the plans he has in store for Atra and how she will "save" Meekrob from the looming civil war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy what's poppin thots
> 
> it's ur friendly neighborhood loser back at it again with more terrible content
> 
> sorry for the long hiatus and the short chapter but hopefully you'll enjoy

Work on the chip was slow, _strenuous_ , even with the help of such an advanced race. They didn’t even have all of the parts needed to put it together, and as such had to wait for them to be shipped in from Callnowia. Dib even had to pay extra for overnight shipping! He wondered what even counted as a night on Meekrob, or how time even moved here.

There were so many questions he had that he knew would be unanswered. This was not his mission, nor was this an exploration or grand quest. But perhaps one day, if he managed to get out of this alive, he could have a quest of his own where he could find the answers to his questions himself. After all, ever since he was a child it was all he ever wanted. To explore the far reaches of space. 

“You seem stressed,” Infera noted, smirking proudly as if she’d just made some grand discovery.

“Can you blame me?” he retorted. “I thought Meekrob was the answer. We really don’t have time to be waiting around for packages, you know.”

She shrugged carelessly before flexing and cracking her strained fingers. “We don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Besides, you have no idea how helpful it is to have all these extra hands. The hardest part of the job is yours, you know. You’ll have to program it.”

“Me?” he choked out, astonished. “But I… _you’re_ the lead hacker-“

Her smirk morphed into a sunny smile. “But _you_ know the chip the best, even better than I do. It has to be you. There’s no one else, other than Atra, who understands it like you do. I’d even say you understand it better than her.”

“There’s Zim,” Dib noted with a bit of melancholy in his tone. “He knew it pretty well too.”

Infera rolled her eyes. “Zim’s a bit preoccupied with the Tallest right now. He’s got his own thing going on. I just hope he figures it out before we have to leave for Irk.”

He had sort of forgotten about Zim’s overdue talk with his douchebag ‘leaders’. He could only imagine how he was handling it. “I know, I just… as much as it shocks me to say this… having his input on this would be… helpful. And I _really_ can’t believe I’m saying that.”

Infera giggled at his admission like a teasing schoolgirl. “Then why don’t you go see if he’s free and talk to him? You can’t keep avoiding each other forever. Really, it’s starting to make even _me_ uncomfortable.”

Dib sighed- if _one_ more person told him to go talk to Zim he was going to scream. “Look, I know that everything is simple to _you_ Infera, but it’s really a lot more complex than you think it is.”

Her good mood grew sour instantly. The warm atmosphere suddenly seemed to drop quite a few degrees, now an icy chill. “Well, I now know that you apparently think I’m incapable of complex thought. I thought the whole hacker thing would’ve made that a moot point, but I guess not.”

Dib’s hardened expression immediately softened after realizing what he’d implied. “Wait, that’s not what I-“

She held up a gloved hand. “Forget it. But you’re overthinking it, like you overthink everything. If you just be honest with him he’ll understand.”

“Oh no, you _clearly_ don’t know Zim. If I want his forgiveness I’ll have to grovel at his feet and worship the ground he walks on for _years_.”

“I thought he was past all that?”

“I thought so too, but now I’m not so sure.”

Infera mirrored his sigh from earlier, the curls of her hair swaying softly as if detecting his mood. “Well, clearly there’s been a violation of trust here. Right now Zim thinks you don’t trust him, and judging by his avoidance, feels hurt by that. You also don’t want to talk to him because you want to avoid conflict and you know that confronting Zim will inevitably lead to conflict. Sound about right?” 

Dib narrowed his eyes, annoyed. Her suddenly strong intuition was starting to creep him out. “What are you, my therapist?”

She shrugged, grinning. “I know my way around the human psyche. Believe it or not you’re not the first human I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Well, can you just skip to the part where you give me meds?” he joked, stifling a bitter laugh.

Infera chuckled, showing off bright white fangs. “Afraid not. That’s more of Vythani’s field. But it’s clear that Zim is not going to make the first move. Number one, because he’s _Zim,_ and number two, _you_ were the one who violated his trust. Now that you’ve realized you’re in the wrong, it makes the most sense for you to talk to him. Besides, he probably needs someone right now. He just talked to the very same Irkens who’ve been oppressing him and the rest of the Irken race for quite a long time.”

Dib rolled his eyes. “Please. Zim bounces back. He always does. He’ll get over that.”

“I also admire Zim’s resilience, but you _know_ what I’m talking about.”

Dib groaned aloud- unfortunately, he knew exactly what his feisty friend meant. What he really dreaded was what it meant for him. “Fine,” he resigned himself, knowing that there was no way he was getting out of it if Infera was involved. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But if I get stuck groveling I’ll be sure to thank you for that.”

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen and _go.”_

* * *

“H-How am I supposed to stop the civil war?” Atra asked. 

Zevven looked up to the ceiling as if the answer was written there. “Well, _you_ started this little rebellion, so what would you have us do?” he asked. Just one look into his eyes told her that his question wasn’t meant to be seriously answered- he no doubt already had a plan for her in place. if she knew Zevven then she knew that he never did anything without a plan in place first. 

“I know what I _wouldn’t_ do, and that’s kill and torture innocent people for choosing their own paths," she snapped back.

Zevven outright cackled at that. “Oh, that’s rich. They’re not innocent, if they’re anything like you, which they _are_. You know what we called them while you were away? The Destruction. The Dreamseekers. Thought of the names myself- you were the inspiration, of course.”

“Dreamseekers?” Atra inquired curiously. “What inspired that name?”

“As you know, the Sight can create... powerful, _vivid_ dreams. That’s what they call themselves- the Dreamers. More like nightmares if you ask me.”

“But Meekrobians cannot dream,” Atra argued. “We don’t have the capacity for-"

“Vivid imagination? No, we didn’t, at least not until _you_ showed up. Don’t you understand what you’ve done to these people yet?”

“I…”

Zevven didn’t give her a chance to answer or explain herself. “You gave them false hope! Now they’re finding their salvation in things like dreams, hope, and imagination! The very things that start wars! The only ones they should be seeking for their salvation is The Ones themselves.”

Had she really inspired so many people, or was this another mind game? She used to never be susceptible to tricks of the mind. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her since meeting the human runaway and the broken Irken.

But for once, Atra agreed with him. This had to stop. There had to be an end to it all.

“If I am truly responsible for their actions… if I am the reason that they are in pain… then stop this yourself,” she ordered. “Please. You already have me, I’ll do whatever it is you wish, so long as you free these people and don’t hurt anyone else. We’re becoming _savages,_ don’t you see? We are so, _so_ much better than this! _You_ are better than this!”

“You don’t know _anything_ about me! You never cared to know, you were always too busy in the clouds, lost in your own head as per usual!" 

"Is- is that what this is about?" Atra inquired, narrowing her eyes. "You are angry with me because I didn't say hello to you enough?" 

"Watch your tone!" he hissed, face darkening with rage. "If you think this is all because I was vying for your attention then you're _sorely_ mistaken. Even before your little stunt you were never like us. Ever." 

“But look at us now! This is not who we are! As a species! As a society! We took an Oath, remember? An Oath that made us promise to never take the life of another living thing.”

She could've sworn she saw a hint of recognition flicker in his eyes at her mentioning of the Oath. It was something every Meekrobian knew well. “The Oath has been done away with for a long time now, you dolt! Don’t you realize that nothing is off-limits now? Which means…” Zevven trailed off, his grin becoming sinister. This time, he was prompting her to answer.

“…It means you’ll have no qualms about killing me. I was expecting that.”

“Mm, you’re getting warmer, but not quite.”

“What else could you possibly-“

“You’re quite thick, aren’t you? I mean that now that you’ve returned, I’ve got a job for you. This prison is uh- well, it’s a temporary holding place before we get to the _real_ playground.”

Zevven leaned in close, right next to where her ear would be if she had one. “And I can’t _wait_ to play with you.”

* * *

“You know Gir, despite a very successful torture session, I still don’t feel as though I succeeded. I wonder why that is.”

“Wheee, torture!” Gir squealed, running around where his feet were hanging off the end of the bed. “I _love_ torture!”

“I’m sure you do," Zim agreed, "you torture me with your screechy voice every day. Also that poor hideous feline you kept trapped in the fridge. What did you ever do with that thing anyway?”

“I ated it!”

Nauseated, Zim recoiled, face scrunching in pure disgust. “Oh, of course you did. That’s… that’s wonderful. But you’re not paying any attention to my problems, Gir, and that itself is a problem.”

“I ate a baby once too.”

“I know, Gir, I was there. It was disgusting to watch, your mouth unhinged in a way I didn’t even know was physically possible. Now will you stop being selfish and allow me to vent to you about the struggles of torturing my idols?!”

Gir leaped up onto the bed where Zim was now laying, making himself comfortable beside him. “Oh _yeaaaahhh_ , you tortured those tall folks! Did ya like it?!”

“No Gir, I did not ‘like it’, I never want to do it again.” Zim sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Ugh, forget it. You can’t stay still long enough to listen anyway.”  

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

Figuring it was probably Vythani or some other fool that had stayed onboard the ship, Zim reluctantly jumped to his feet, traipsing over to the door with heavy steps. “For the last time you doctor-beast, I do not wish for a-“

The words died in his throat when he saw who was on the other side of the door.

_“Dib?”_

The human he had come to know as Dib waved sheepishly, grinning awkwardly. “Hi Zim, uh… you… I wish I could say you look like you’re doing well, but… frankly, you look like shit.”

Zim’s antenna twitched with annoyance. “Nice talk,” he said before he reached over to the button to shut and lock the door again.

“Wait, wait!” Dib hurriedly reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Sorry, sorry, bad start. I’m serious. I want to talk to you about what happened.”

Zim merely huffed in response. “If you are here to apologize then save it. Zim doesn’t need your apologies. I know how deceitful you humans are. I should have known better than to place my trust in _you_. This was my mistake.”

Dib had to admit, it was sort of refreshing to hear Zim admit that he had made a mistake, even if it was misguided and not quite the truth. “Zim, please hear me out. I don’t have a whole lot of time to tell you this and I want to get the chance in case-“

“In case what? In case we die? ‘Dying in space’ never really bothered you before, what’s changed?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s _you!_ I want to tell you that I’m _sorry,_ okay?! I’m _sorry_ I didn’t tell you about the chip. I’m sorry I put it before our friendship. I thought I was being helpful but in the end the only thing I did was hurt you, and I’m _sorry._ I didn’t realize it would bother you so much, you never really struck me as the emotional _type._ Regardless, I… I really do regret it. If I could go back and tell you I would.” He paused to take a deep, long breath. “I know… before this happened, we were sort of… you know… kind of like…”

“I know what you’re getting at,” Zim snapped, cheeks warming ever so slightly. “Go on, continue with your pathetic attempt at an apology.”

Dib cocked a brow, confused. “Zim, I… I don’t expect you to accept my apology or forgive me, but I just want you to know that what happened with the chip doesn’t change… whatever _that_ was. Whatever we had before. That was different.”

The room was silent for a moment, as if both of them were reminiscing, recalling feelings that hadn't been forgotten, but buried beneath other priorities and emotions.

“It was,” Zim finally said, nodding his head in agreement. “It was… strange for Zim. But not unpleasant.”

“We could try it again,” Dib suggested, stepping further into the room. “Start all over. I mean- not completely, but… from before we fought about the chip… before the chip was ever a thing, if you really wanted to.”

“Mm…Zim _does_ miss your ‘Netflix’,” Zim admitted, earning a chuckle out of Dib.

“How about me? Did you miss me?”

“Don’t push your luck."

“Admit it,” Dib teased, noting the way Zim’s cheeks hued even more. “You _did_ miss me.”

“I did nothing of the sort! Stop it! Quit mocking Zim!”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re still just as easy to tease as ever.” Dib hadn’t even realized that the whole time he’d still been holding onto Zim’s wrist. But rather than let go, he let his hand slide down to gently grasp his. They weren’t made to fit together yet somehow they still did, and Dib liked to think that was worth holding onto. He could only hope Zim felt the same way. “I think that’s what I lo- _like_ , about you. You’re one of the only constants in my life, but for the first time… _ever_ , that’s not a bad thing.”

“…Dib?”

“Zim?”

“Zim thinks… he will allow the Dib to stay. Do not get excited, this is _not_ forgiveness, you will have to earn that. It will be a painful and difficult journey, with many trials and tribulations to test your worthiness of my companionship and lo- well. You know. That icky word I dislike.”

Dib grinned, meeting the Irken’s otherworldly gaze. That was Zim alright, always issuing him a challenge. “Ah, well, what’s a journey without some trials and tribulations?” 

“I see you accept this. Very well. Your first trial: stop talking.”

Before he could interrupt or ask what he meant, Zim wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Zim held him like the universe would collapse if he didn't, and it felt almost unreal, to be so needed. 

“Do not ever do that to Zim again,” he said quietly into the fabric of his uniform.

“I won’t,” Dib promised, pulling him closer. “I won’t, I swear. Never again.”

* * *

“The Ones do not want you dead- they believe you are far too valuable a soldier to just throw away. Besides, you’re the one who got us into this mess, and you’re the only one who can get us out. And _that_ , dear Atrana Astralle, is the plan." Zevven pointed his index finger at her. "You are going to save Meekrob from the civil war.”

Atra glared at Zevven incredulously. “Right... and just _how_ am I going to do that alone?”

“Being alone has never stopped you before. Besides, you’ll have the entire Meekrob government backing you up. So, here’s the plan: _you_ are the image of hope to the Dreamseekers. So we want you to wage a fake war against the government and lose.”

“…You want me to do _what?”_

“You do not get to object!” Zevven bellowed suddenly, body quaking with fury. So as not to lose his temper, Zevven drew in a deep breath, calming himself. “Now listen to me when I speak to you, you twit! You are going to lead the armies of the rebellion to the Capital. Have them lay siege to the palace, free a bunch of trapped people, give them _just_ enough hope to let them think they’ll win, and then we take it all away and crush it into the dirt where it belongs. _You_ will fake your own death, right in front of your armies while they watch. And as they witness your untimely demise, we’ll be there to take them down once and for all.”

Appalled, Atra covered her mouth, stifling her gasp of horror. “That… that’s horrible… there’s no way I could-“

“You want Meekrob to be at peace again, right?” Zevven urged, his sweet voice dripping with honey. “The end will always justify the means. This is the only way.”

“So you want me to stop the war… by starting one?”

Zevven waved a dismissive hand. “Oh please, this will be a mere skirmish at best. This is the only way we can teach the rebellion that their little mission is pointless. We want them to see firsthand the bloodshed that hope causes. If they want something to have hope in, it can only be The Ones.”

“But I can’t risk so many lives like that… I can’t do that again on the off-chance that the rebellion will actually back down!”

A strong, tight grip suddenly wrapped itself around her throat, squeezing, constricting, threatening to bust through her semi-physical form. “You do not get a say in the matter, Miss Astralle. You will do _exactly_ as The Ones have commanded, otherwise the deal’s off and your friends are stuck here!”

“Just kill me, then!” she screamed, unfazed even as his grip grew tighter and tighter. “You want to, don’t you? Why not satisfy your desires and do it?!”

“Because _that’s_ giving you an easy out! Because I _want_ you to live through the pain you caused all over again. Because I know that whether you succeed or fail, it will still hurt you _regardless_.”

The grip finally loosened. Atra sunk back down onto the floor at Zevven’s feet.

“We want to defeat the Irken Empire just as badly as you do, and I can assure you that they will fall, with or without the Resisty. But I imagine that you don’t want your friends to be stuck on Meekrob as war criminals, right? That would just be terrible. So please Atra, for once in your life, make the right decision.”

Yet again she was swallowed by the darkness as he left, his footsteps echoing in the hallway outside her room. For the first time, she didn’t fight it. Didn’t fight him. She had spent so long trying to think for herself, and look at where she had ended up. Responsible for hundreds of deaths, trapped on her own home planet, and now she was about to be responsible for the slaughter and imprisonment of thousands.

But the Irken Empire would surely continue to conquer and kill as well if they weren’t stopped. Zevven and The Ones didn’t seem like they were in much of a rush to stop them. They probably had no idea, about the new Tallest. And if they did, they didn’t care, and they really, _really_ should. But above all, her friends did not deserve to suffer for her mistakes. Not again. Never again.

It was then when Atra came to realize that this was not atonement or redemption. It wasn’t even punishment. It was torture. Entertainment for Zevven and the rest of the higher-ups at the Capital. A sick game to watch her squirm and struggle with her morality.

The answer, then, was simple. Squirm no more.

If this was the only way to keep her friends safe…

If this was the only way out…

She slowly staggered to her feet, straightening her uniform.

_No more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhh shit, atra bby what is you doin'?
> 
> tune in next time to find out!


	6. Mashed Potatoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim comes up with a plan to combat his illness, but it seems he's not the only one who knows about it. Atra, who's left with no other options, puts the first step of Zevven's plan into action. Gaz shows Tak the wonders of an Xbox.

“You’ve really been working nonstop on that thing.”

Tak didn’t even flinch at her presence anymore- she was so used to her coming and going now that there wasn’t a need. She'd spent most of her days and nights here in this garage, and Gaz would often come to visit her, despite her insisting multiple times that she didn't need company. “I don’t see why I should stop. I don’t need to eat or sleep like you humans do, so there’s nothing to distract me.”

“Must be nice,” Gaz said idly as she leaned against the doorway. “Still, those injuries can’t be easy to work with.”

“If I can move, I can work,” Tak answered simply before briefly throwing a smirk over her shoulder at her companion. “Why? Are you worried?”

_“No,”_ Gaz quickly denied, hoping she didn’t sound too flustered. “No, it’s not that. I was just wondering how close you are to being finished?”

“Shouldn’t be long now. My old ship has everything I need, even if it’s a little outdated.”

“You know,” Gaz started, shifting awkwardly on her feet, “even if you don’t need to eat or sleep or whatever, you should still, like, take a break or something.”

“Breaks are for losers.”                                 

“Right now you’re kind of a loser,” Gaz noted with a smirk.

The old her probably would’ve gotten offended at the insult, but as she was finding out- this was the new her. The new her that the Tallest and the rest of the Irken race had abandoned. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Zim felt like when he found out the truth about his mission.

She didn’t know. She _couldn’t_ know. The whole concept of feelings was something she was still trying to process.

Even so, Gaz was right.

“Yeah,” she admitted with a bitter smile, “I suppose that’s true.”

Gaz suddenly shifted her gaze down at the floor, apparently finding the leaves and other small bits of debris more interesting to look at. “…Well, I’ve hung out with losers all my life, so… if you want, you can come in, or whatever. Dad’s away for a conference so I’ve got the house to myself for the next few days, and it’s kind of boring in here when I don’t have Dib around to annoy me, so… yeah…”

“As… _generous_ as that sounds, I can’t. I don’t have any time to waste, especially not with a human.”

“I’d beg to differ.”

Gaz didn’t need to elaborate- Tak knew all too well. She _did_ , in fact, now have all the time in the world. As much as she wanted to pretend that her Tallest were waiting for her, they weren’t. There was nothing waiting for her anymore. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t in a rush.

“…What do you suggest we do then?”

Gaz shrugged. “I’ve got an Xbox.”

Tak looked between the tools in her hand and Gaz’s nonchalant pose against the wall, glancing back and forth a few times before finally heaving a defeated sigh. “…Show me this ‘Xbox’.”

* * *

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Zim’s antenna twitched as he poked and prodded at his food. “What are you going on about now, human?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of the tray, as if it were one of his experiments.

“When you were interrogating the Tallest,” Dib clarified. “You had to do it all on your own. I’m sorry you had to go through that by yourself.”

Zim stirred a finger in the cup of soup on the corner of the tray. _“Please,_ you are underestimating Zim, and I hate it when you do that. I handled it just fine and I acquired all of the necessary information.” He turned to look at Dib, eyes narrowed. “Praise me for my good work, Dib-pet.”

“Zim, when I explained what ‘pet names’ were, I didn’t mean you literally had to nickname me ‘pet’-“

“Either praise Zim or silence your filthy mouth hole!” 

Dib groaned internally, reaching under his glasses to rub at his exhausted eyes. “Jeez, you weren’t kidding when you said it would be a long and strenuous journey…” he grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

Dib deadpanned, and in a robotic, emotionless tone, spoke louder this time. “Oh, I am so _very_ proud of you for successfully getting the information we needed, my evil overlord of darkness.”

“’Evil Overlord of Darkness’. Zim likes that. You are very good at the ‘pet names’, Dib-smell. See, I just paid you a compliment. I am very good at this ‘lurve’ thing, am I not?” Zim beamed.

Dib feared that the brightness of his pride would blind him one of these days.

He wanted to correct Zim and tell him that a relationship wasn’t based solely on compliments, but ultimately decided to leave it alone for now. Now Zim was just being an ass because he knew he could get away with it- he’d get over it eventually. “Yes,” he acquiesced, lightly patting him on the head. “You’re very good at love.”

Zim’s antennae twitched again at the contact, but he didn’t flinch or jolt back whenever Dib touched him, which Dib took as a good sign. He could only hope that he could rebuild their relationship to what it once was- but Zim certainly wasn’t making it easy on him.

He _never_ had, though, and that was what he loved about him.

Dib decided a change of subject was in order before Zim tried to demand more compliments out of him. “How’s your PAK? Have you gone to see Vythani about it yet?”

“That foolish doctor-beast wouldn’t know a thing about Irken PAK’s, _Dib_. Besides, it’s fine. I’m handling it.”

“…You’re handling it?”

Crimson eyes narrowed into slits. “You sound as though you don’t believe me. Stop that. Stop not-believing me this instant!”

“No, I believe you, it’s just… I think it’s worse than you’re letting on.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Well, for starters, you look exhausted. Since when do you get bags under your eyes?” Dib reached out to trace his thumb over the faint bags under the rim of his left eye. “You’ve slept more in this past month than, well… ever.”

Zim lightly swatted his hand away. “It is merely to accommodate for my malfunctioning PAK. Even if I have more… _needs_ now, it doesn’t make me vulnerable or weak.”

“Yeah, and it’d be fine if that were the case, but it’s not. It’s gradually getting worse, Zim.”

“So what?!” Zim countered. “That is not what’s important right now! What’s important is destroying the Irken Empire, and _I_ will be the one to make that happen! Are we _clear?”_

“It _is_ important, it’s your health!” Dib argued. _“Please,_ just. Go see Vythani. Even if he can’t do anything, he might know someone who can help. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back out there while you’re like this!”

“While I’m _what?_ _Weak? Helpless?_ Ugh, why can’t you humans ever just say what you really mean?!”

Irritated and unsure of how to explain it to Zim so that he understood, Dib placed both hands on the Irken’s shoulders. “Yes, Zim, right now you _are_ weak. Whatever’s going on with you, it’s hurting you, but… just because you’re sick, it doesn’t make you a weak _person_. You’re just a little sick right now, that’s all. Think of this as another battle experience. If you win, you’ll come out stronger.”

This seemed to calm Zim, if only a little bit. “A battle… with myself?”

Dib nodded. “Yeah. Fighting a sickness doesn’t make you weak- in fact, lots of strong people get sick all the time.”

“But Irkens aren’t _supposed_ to get sick- that’s the whole problem. My PAK is not equipped to deal with… whatever this is.”

“I think your PAK is what’s causing the problem here,” Dib mused. “If you get that fixed then you should go back to normal,” he suggested, smiling brightly.

Zim’s antennae stirred, as if acknowledging that he’d heard him, but he said nothing in response, frowning deeply.

So it seemed that provoking him would be the only option after all- Dib was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this. “Ignoring the problem just because you’re too afraid of accepting your weaknesses will only make things worse, trust me.”

“I am not afraid!” Zim argued. “Zim is never afraid!”

“Really? Prove it then, spaceboy,” Dib challenged.

“Fine, I will! Zim will go see the doctor-beast to prove to you that he is not afraid of anything, Dib-beast! _Then_ you’ll see!”

Dib smirked knowingly, lightly clapping him on the shoulder. “Good. I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

Not long after Zevven’s last visit, Atra had been roughly taken from her room and teleported, blind of course, to a place she couldn’t recognize by sound alone. There was dead silence, accompanied only by the sound of footsteps.

“What is this place?” she asked, hoping that Zevven would give her an explanation.

“Let’s just say it’s a place far away enough from the Capital that the Dreamseekers won’t suspect anything,” Zevven answered with a snicker. “Alright, this is far enough. You can reform your eyes now.”

She’d gotten so used to the sensation of having eyes that not having them, even temporarily, was starting to become uncomfortable. When she manifested them again, when the world around her became clear, she felt whole. Complete.

“You understand how our psychic links work, correct?”

Atra nodded. “Yes, although I’ve never attempted one with anyone else…”

“Well, that changes today. Ordinarily a psychic link can only be established between two people. But, technology has allowed us to expand that to thousands.”

“T-Thousands?!”

“Indeed. Our top scientists have been working for years to develop this, and lucky for you, you get to be the guinea pig.” Zevven reached into the bag he’d brought along and pulled out a small silver crown, adorned with lights, though it was hardly what Atra would call aesthetically pleasing. “This crown will allow you to project your message to the entirety of Meekrob.”

“A-All of us?! That’s dangerous, I would induce mass panic!”

“This is _Meekrob_ , Atra, not Earth, and certainly not Irk. Besides, this is a message that _everyone_ needs to hear. Once they hear that you’re building an army, people will naturally start to take sides, and the ‘civil war’ will begin…” Zevven placed the crown atop her head. “This device will connect you to every Meekrobian. All you have to do is speak. They will not be able to see you.”

“Will they believe me?”

“Of course. Everyone hearing the same message at the same time? They’d have to be foolish not to believe you- and we are _not_ foolish.”

Somehow the device managed to feel both weightless and heavy at the same time. “What… should I say?” she asked meekly.

“That, I’ll leave up to you. You’re creative, Miss Astralle, you always have been. I trust you’ll find the right words. You’re even free to reveal your identity if you wish. You will be under government protection throughout the duration of this mission, so you don’t need to worry about anyone coming after you. You have the floor now; it will connect as soon as you begin speaking.”

Atra’s fists clenched at her sides as she wracked her brain for a way to begin. She hadn’t really thought about this, about giving a speech of unity, especially under these conditions. But she had no choice. This was her punishment.

So she spoke from the heart, like she would if she were with Dib and Zim and the rest of the Resisty.

_“People of Meekrob. If you are hearing this message now, know that this message is not one to fear. This message… is a message of unity, from me to all of you. Dark times have fallen on Meekrob as of late, and I’m sure that you are all aware of the changes in society recently. I take full responsibility for those changes. Do whatever you wish with that information, but know this: from here on out, think of me as a symbol of freedom. The Sight and everything it stands for- hope, imagination, dreams- they will all live on through me. If you wish to be a part of that, if you wish for a world of freedom as well, then I ask you to stand by me. Stand by the people around you. We used to be One. Then the pieces of us were shattered. I fully intend to make us whole again, but I cannot do that without your assistance. Meekrob…”_

Atra clenched her fist, raising it high to the sky even though she knew she couldn’t be seen by her audience.

_“…Will **rise!”**_

* * *

Zim retreated to his room with an agitated huff, leaning against the door after he stepped inside. That meddling, pestering, _bothersome_ Dib-human… perhaps things haven’t changed as much as he thought they did.

“Master!” Gir squealed, clinging Zim’s legs like an overly excited child. “Did you go see that doctor fella? The one who smells like corn?”

“He doesn’t smell like- _ugh_.” Zim took a moment to collect himself- dealing with Gir always took a little bit of mental preparation beforehand. “No, Gir, I did not, and I’m not going to.”

“You said you wouuullllld!” Gir pressed, climbing up Zim’s body until he was wrapped around his chest.

“That’s just what I told the Dib-thing- hey, how do you know about that? You weren’t there!”

Gir stared up at Zim with wide, blank eyes and merely shrugged.

“Oh, okay, that explains it. I only said that to make the Dib-thing feel better. His constant fretting was annoying me. If I tell him I went to see that pitiful excuse for a doctor then he’ll be off my back for a while.”

“But master, you’re sick! You gots a fever! Let me take your temperature!” Gir reached up, _curse_ his extendable arms, and tried to stick a metal finger in his mouth. Zim thankfully managed to get Gir off of him before he could reach his mouth- who knows where that hand had been? Knowing Gir, it could literally have been _anywhere._

“I know I’m ill, Gir. But there is nothing that the doctor or Dib or anyone else can do for me.” Without even realizing it, he’d started pacing back and forth across the room like he did when he was stressed. “The only solution is a new PAK, and that’s obviously out of the question.”

“Why?” Gir asked innocently, tilting his head.

“Because then I would not be Zim anymore, obviously! I’d be someone else! And that’d be bad! Because being me is amazing!”

“But yous could just put all your Zim-stuff in the new one!”

Zim shook his head. “No no Gir, that would never- wait. _Wait!_ Say that again!”

“Mac n cheese!”

“No no, what you just said!”

“Corn!”

“No- _ugh_. Nevermind, but that’s brilliant Gir! If there’s a way for me to transfer all of my personality and memory data into a new PAK, then I’ll be fine!”

“Yay!”

“Once we get to Irk, I’ll sneak into the Smeet Factory, steal a PAK and load all of my data into the new PAK! I can do it on my own, all I’ll need is a computer!” Zim smiled victoriously to himself. He almost wished he could congratulate himself on a job well done. “Of course! I’m a genius! Why am I such a genius, Gir?”

“Mashed potatoes!”

“Of course! Mashed po- _Gir!”_

“Did ya want some, master?” Gir pulled a bowl of freshly made mashed potatoes from the top of his head. Zim didn’t want to think about how long he’d been keeping it in there.

“No, Gir. I don’t. But at least now, I have a plan. Now the only problem will be finding enough time during the mission to sneak out… I’ll have to come up with a proper excuse…”

“Look master, look at me!”

Zim waved him off. “Not now Gir, I’m plotting my master plan of evil-“

_“Potato Hug!”_

He was then abruptly tackled onto the bed, bits of mashed potatoes flying everywhere, landing on him, the bed and the floor. His robot giggled, the bowl where the mashed potatoes had been before they were splattered all over him sitting atop his head like a crooked hat.

He didn’t have the energy to yell at him this time.

“I am going to sleep now Gir, and if this mess is not clean by the time I wake up, no more mashed potatoes for the next millennia. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes sir!”

* * *

“You played your part _perfectly_ , Miss Astralle,” Zevven praised. “Many of them are already going to seek The Ones for guidance. _Already,_ the people are choosing their sides. Can you believe that? The power of persuasion really is something special, isn’t it?”

“This isn’t just persuasion at work here. This is _manipulation_ ,” Atra coldly reminded him.

“Ah, same difference, really. Isn’t that what every government does? Manipulation is all part of the politics.”

“But this isn’t just about politics, this is people’s _lives_ that we’re toying with,” she argued.

“To you, perhaps. To live the way _you_ want to live is not life. And the people will see that soon enough. Those who come to seek The Ones’ guidance in these trying times are the ones who will bring about the end of your influence.”

“And why is change such a bad thing? Species evolve and grow all the time.”

“We didn’t need to grow. We had achieved the ultimate perfection. This will restore us to our former glory.” Zevven knelt down so he was face to face with her. “The Ones believe you can be a part of that as well. So if you _shut up_ and play your part, you may just be able to get out of this alive and well.”

She placed a hand over her tightening chest. “It is not me I’m worried about. As long as the Irken Empire is defeated and my comrades are safe, the rest doesn’t matter.”

“Mm," he hummed in acknowledgment. "There it is. That stupid self-sacrificing attitude I’ve always hated.”

“You seem to have a hatred for everything, Zevven.”

He chuckled at that, as if he were genuinely amused. “You know what I _don’t_ hate? Order. Glory. Perfection. And that is what we will achieve. So play. Your. _Part_.”

Atra could only nod helplessly.

* * *

.

.

.

“So _that’s_ his plan?”

“Seems that way. What should we do, then?”

“Why, make a few calls, of course. He’s not going to get away with ruining everything _again._ Even if _she_ won’t listen to us, I know a few people that will.”


	7. Incoming Transmission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tallest Min reveals her plan to take down the Resisty once and for all. Meanwhile, Dib decides to take Zim for a little sightseeing, and Gaz shows Tak the wonders of human food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a longer chapter this time to make up for the wait 
> 
> i'm taking a little break away from atra because i felt like the story was too heavily focused on her. but don't worry, we'll get back to her eventually. ^^

“My Tallest, we have urgent news!”

Min’s antennae twitched as she reluctantly turned in her seat to address her soldier. “What’s the matter _this_ time?”

“Reports of Irken soldiers receiving transmissions from Meekrob are everywhere!”

Intrigued, Min rose from her chair. “From Meekrob? What does it say?”

The soldier nodded. “It’s, well- it’s not _from_ the Meekrob people, but it came from that location. It’s from the former Tallests. Apparently it was only supposed to reach the Irkens currently on Irk, but we still managed to pick up on it and tap into the message.”

Min groaned aloud. “Oh, _wonderful_. Those two morons. What did they want?”

“They said… they said that someone called Zim has a plan to break into the smeet factory and steal a PAK, because his is malfunctioning. They went on to say that if we value our continued existence we should do as they say and stop him.”

Min’s eyes widened with recognition as she recalled the pitiful excuse for an Irken- _Zim_ , the same Zim that had forced the former Tallests into placing themselves under arrest. The same rebel Zim that had stormed the Massive with an army- and allowed her to take control. Really, if he weren’t so pitifully small she might have thought to thank him.

Even so, he was still an enemy of the Irken Empire- but his knack for destruction was something that even she could admire. As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted him playing for her team. She could only hope that the filthy Meekrobians hadn’t sunk their greedy little claws into him quite yet.

“Well, there’s been a change of plans, then. Inform everyone, there will be a meeting later on.”

“My Tallest..?”

“Are you questioning my orders?”

“N-No, not at all!” the soldier sputtered. “Right away my Tallest, I will inform everyone!” With that she was off, rushing over to the intercom to make a ship-wide announcement.

“You!” Min abruptly shouted, pointing at the captain of the ship. “Full speed ahead.”

“But my Tallest, the engines are still damaged! We need more time to repair-“

“That doesn’t matter! We need to get back to Irk first!”

“Yes, my Tallest!”

_I won’t let you take back this Empire. It’s mine, and it will stay that way._

* * *

It had been hard for Dib to find time to take a break in between construction on the new and improved chip- and he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit bad because, well- he was human. He needed to do all of these things that the Meekrob people didn’t need to do to survive- like eating and sleeping, for instance. Dib couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he was slowing things down more than he was helping.

But he couldn’t think like that- not now that he had already come so far. There was a lot of progress made and it wouldn’t be long now before it was complete.

“You’re eating that like it’s your job.”

Dib jumped at the sudden intrusion, dropping the sandwich-like lunch he’d been provided (by a space delivery service- he guessed he shouldn’t be too surprised that something like that existed). “Ah, well… it’s the most human-like food I’ve had since I’ve been in space, so I was pretty excited…”

Infera snorted with laughter. “It’s fine, I get it. You know, you should come to Heria some time. If you like stuff like that then you’d _definitely_ like the delicacies of _my_ home planet.”

“I wish I could do some exploring,” Dib admitted sullenly. “Even here, I’d love to do some sightseeing and maybe take some photographs, but we’re so pressed for time…”

Infera’s brows knitted together with worry. “Mm…” she hummed in agreement. “Yes, but we’re almost done with the chip, right?”

“I mean… yes, but-“

Infera looked around the room as if she were worried someone else might be listening in before she leaned in close to Dib, winding an arm around his shoulder. “I think we can handle it from here, so how about you take Zim out and do some sightseeing? It’ll be like a date!”

“Ah…” Dib couldn’t help the heat that flooded his cheeks. “Zim and I on a date? I don’t really know if he’s the date type, and well, I’d feel kinda bad to leave you guys now when we’re so close…! Wait- how do you know what a date is?”

Infera rolled her eyes. “Dates are not an Earth-only concept, you dork. Aliens date.”

“Yeah, but _Zim?_ Could you _imagine_ him and I on a date? We’d be, like, a total disaster.”

“I can, actually, and yes, it could be a disaster if you _let_ it be a disaster.” Infera huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Look, since I’ve known Zim, you’re the only person I’ve seen him let his guard down around- he may not show it, but I think he might really like it if you tried something… you know, to _show_ that you’re trying.”

Dib couldn’t help but smirk slightly- Infera _really_ didn’t know Zim like he did and yet here she was trying to give him advice. Nonetheless he let it slide- she was trying her best to help and he certainly wasn’t an expert in the field of romance.

“Right. I mean, as long as you guys really don’t need me, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go sightseeing…”

“That’s the spirit!” Infera cheered, lightly punching Dib’s arm. “Although…” she said as though another thought occurred to her. “Perhaps his former enemy planet isn’t the most romantic place…”

“Actually…” Dib couldn’t help but let a warm smile cross his lips. “I think it’ll be perfect.”

* * *

“You want to take me on a _what_ now?”

“A date,” Dib repeated. “It’s a fun thing humans do. I thought we could, I don’t know, go sightseeing? We’ve never been here before, so I thought it might be fun to go take a look around…”

As expected, Zim didn’t seem too enthused about the idea. “Has the Dib forgotten that we are in the middle of a war? We don’t exactly have time to be frolicking about Meekrob like children.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Infera told me that we’re just about finished with the chip- we should be leaving for Irk within the next 48 hours or so, so I thought I’d take some time to do something with you,” Dib suggested with a shrug, smiling crookedly. Zim seemed to falter a bit whenever he smiled.

“I suppose I could show you some of Meekrob’s history…” Zim’s ruby eyes held a devious glint as he grinned maliciously. “The battles had stopped long before I ever came to be, unfortunately.”

“I thought Meekrob and Irk were still at war?”

Zim shrugged carelessly. “They are, _technically_ , but they’ve been at a stalemate for so long that they eventually just quit fighting. But neither of them would dare give in and officially concede victory to the other, so they’ve both been plotting silently to conquer each other for years now. Or so I assume. It’s what I would’ve done.”

“Evil,” Dib taunted with a smirk, reaching out to flick Zim’s antennae.

Irritated, Zim flinched away from him, but didn’t hesitate to shoot him a knowing look. “Always.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“To what?”

“To a date, Zim.”

“Oh. That. I suppose I _could_ make some time for you…”

Dib frowned. “Oh yeah, cause you’re _so_ busy-“

“I am busy!” Zim protested. “Do you want to go on this ‘date’ thing or not?”

“Of course,” Dib said languidly- teasing Zim was never _not_ fun. “Come on, I think Lard Nar said the Capital was open to visitors? We should check it out.”

Zim merely nodded curtly in agreement- and Dib had to admit, he was rather surprised that he didn’t have any objections about him taking the lead. Dib liked to think it was because he had earned some of his trust back. He hoped that was the case.

* * *

“I still don’t understand how you humans can eat this disgusting slop.” Tak stabbed a french fry with her fork, glaring at it with disgust. "It's making me sick to my squeedlyspooch."

Gaz didn't even _try_ to understand what the word 'squeedlyspooch' meant. “Weird,” she noted as she took a bit out of one of her own fries. “Zim seemed to like these fries.”

“Not all Irkens have the same tastes,” Tak shortly reminded her with a roll of her eyes.

Gaz merely shrugged, though while the Irken was distracted with playing with her food, she couldn’t help but take a few seconds to study her. Her human disguise, impeccable as ever, was not that far off from the one she had when she was on Earth the first time. It just looked a bit older now, befitting a young adult woman rather than an elementary school girl. She had to admit, the piercings were a nice touch. She wondered if Tak had designed it personally.

“You’re _staring_ again.”

“Sorry. I’m just… not used to…” Gaz made a vague gesture in her direction, “this. I didn’t think you’d agree to come with me at all.”

“You’re the one who invited me, and I didn’t have anything better to do.” Tak folded her arms across her chest with a moody huff.

“You always could’ve stayed behind to finish your ship,” Gaz pointed out.

This seemed to catch Tak’s attention, her brow quirking upwards with interest at the remark. “Are you implying that I’m slacking?”

Gaz shook her head. “Nope. I’m actually impressed. It took Dib _years_ to get your old ship functional again after all the battles he put it through with Zim.”

“That’s because Dib is a _human_. Irken intellect is _far_ superior. I noticed that he tried to implement some human technology in my old ship. Pathetic. He should know that Irken and human technology is definitely _not_ compatible-“

Gaz lazily took a sip from her milkshake. “I dunno, if that’s the case then I don’t think Dib would’ve been able to hack into Zim’s computer in his base. But hey, if it makes you feel better…”

Tak waved a dismissive hand. “No, Zim is just a moron that leaves his stuff unprotected. If you and your brother hadn’t interfered that day then this planet would be nothing but a snack bowl for my Tallests.”

Gaz couldn't help but pull a revolted face. “Eww. Doesn’t that sound kind of… you know, unsanitary? Even if you were to remove the Earth’s core, filling it with food and stuff would be kind of gross.”

Tak seemed to ponder this thought for a second, her nose scrunching in thought. “…I suppose you are right,” she acquiesced, “that would be rather disgusting, now that I think about it.”

“See?”

“Hmph. Well, now that I’ve got no Tallest to report back to I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Gaz paused on her milkshake, gently placing it on the other side of her plate. “About that… where are you gonna go once your ship is fixed?”

Tak shrugged. “Anywhere I want, I suppose. The Irken Empire is in shambles and I now have no purpose, so… what is it you humans say? The universe is my clam.”

“It’s ‘the world is your oyster’,” Gaz corrected. “But for you, I guess it _is_ the whole universe.”

“I just… it didn’t feel as though I had been gone that long.” She drummed her fingers against the desk. “I thought I could come back here and take revenge on Zim and settle the score once and for all… but it’s like as soon as I landed here I just…”

“Lost motivation?”

Tak appeared surprisingly sheepish- she was usually so fierce and unabashed about everything she did, including how she carried herself. “I suppose so…”

“Know how that feels…” Gaz muttered halfheartedly, almost as if she hadn’t wanted Tak to hear it.

Unfortunately for her, she _did_ hear it. “You do?” she asked, perking up with wide, curious eyes. Gaz almost thought she could see the violet eyes of her true Irken visage shining through the human façade.

“Well, yeah. I just recently graduated high school, and I really want to go to art school, but it’s like after I got a job I just… stopped caring. And half the time I never really want to go to work anymore either. So I get it. The whole… ‘no desire to do anything’ feeling. It sucks.”

“…I see. It’s almost as if… having so much at your disposal is so overwhelming that sometimes it’s easier to just do nothing at all…”

Gaz sort of hated her for being able to interpret her feelings better than she herself could. It was an enviable trait- especially for someone who wasn’t even human. She could sort of understand how Dib felt- she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit irritated that Tak was able to blend in so easily like it was nothing. No one batted an eye in her direction. Humans were far too focused on themselves. Perhaps Tak knew that too.

“You’re pretty good at being human,” Gaz said idly.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It was, but I just now remembered that you probably wouldn’t see it as one, so. Sorry.”

Surprisingly, Tak felt her irritation fading. There was something about her that made her impossible to stay mad at- but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. That itself was sort of irritating as well. “Well. Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t have to thank me.” Gaz then slid her milkshake into the middle of the table. “Here, try dipping a fry in it.”

Tak eyed it suspiciously. “Are you sure that won’t burn me or make me violently ill? Most Earth foods seem to cause those reactions in Irkens.”

“It might, but you’ll never know until you try. It’s pretty good. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least… Dib used to say some stupid junk like that.”

Tak guessed that that was another human phrase- she’d have to start making a list. “Fine then.”

She tentatively dipped a french fry into the milkshake, and hesitantly bit into it. The first thing she noticed was that her mouth wasn’t having a violent reaction to the strange flavor. The second thing she noticed- it wasn’t half bad. It was the first halfway decent thing she’d had since crash-landing on Earth.

“So?” Gaz eagerly leaned in, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

“It’s, um… not totally repulsive.”

With a satisfied smirk, Gaz chose to take that as a small victory for herself.

* * *

Dib should have figured that Zim would end up being the one leading their little outing at some point- it was only a matter of time. He wondered if Zim even noticed that he hadn’t let go of his hand the entire time they’d been out, seemingly lost in himself as he pointed out various spots of history to Dib.

“According to history, this is where the Elite Irken Brigade laid siege to _Arcala_ , the largest district on this side of Meekrob. They lost it during the brief treaty that Irk had with Meekrob, but after the treaty was broken, both the Arcala _and_ Wendall regions were taken for Irk!”

Meekrob’s structures were nothing like Earth’s- they truly were eons ahead of humans in every way- even in their structural designs. Their buildings were primarily circular and built with a material that Dib guessed was light but still somewhat sturdy. Everything about Meekrob drove both his inner paranormal investigator and his inner scientist wild with curiosity and the desire to explore. He only wished that they had the time- perhaps later, once all of this was over. Dib could only hope that such a time would actually come.

Zim sighed regretfully. “It almost makes me wish I had been around to be a part of it.”

“Whose side are you on?” Dib questioned, mostly joking although he couldn’t deny that a little part of him was genuinely curious…

“Zim is on Zim’s side. One thing that Lard-Beast failed to mention is that Meekrob is not that much different from Irk in terms of politics and ideals. We are actually quite similar- which I’m assuming is why we clashed so much.”

Dib guessed that he couldn’t expect Zim to _not_ have strong feelings about Meekrob- it had been an enemy of Irk for many years. It was probably common knowledge that Meekrob was to be viewed as an enemy- nothing more and nothing less.

“We should come back sometime,” Dib suggested. “When you guys aren’t at war, I mean. This place is… really cool.”

Zim flashed him a brief endearing smile. “Please. If you think Meekrob is ‘cool’ just wait until you see all the other planets the Irken Empire has conquered.”

“Would you show me?”

A taunting grin split his lips. “You wish to see the Irken Empire’s extensive collection of planets? I didn’t think you were quite so sadistic, Dib.”

“No more sadistic than you are,” Dib taunted back, giving Zim’s hand a light squeeze.

“I’ll show the Dib whatever he wants to see,” Zim said quietly, leaning ever so slightly against Dib’s arm. “There is probably much you haven’t seen. You humans and your pitiful achievements in space travel,” he scoffed.

“Well, the universe is huge. There’s probably stuff you haven’t seen either. We could take a space vacation. A spacecation.”

Zim’s eyes narrowed. “Space…cation?”

“A space vacation,” he clarified. Then, another thought occurred to him. “Have you ever been on a vacation before, Zim?”

“Depends. What is a vacation?”

“Geez, are all Irkens workaholics like you? A vacation is when you take a trip to get away from home and relax. Remember all those times I used to be out of school for a week? Dad would take us on vacations every year during the beginning of the school year since he was too busy to take us over the summer.”

“Yes, I remember. Those days without your presence were quite pleasant. I remember feeling significantly less annoyed.”

Dib frowned, and he couldn’t help the small pout that followed. “And yet you _still_ couldn’t take over the world even when I was gone.”

Zim’s smile was knowing and the tiniest bit mischievous. “Come now, Dib-love. Do not look at Zim like that. To answer your question, no. I have never been on a ‘vacation’.”

Dib gasped as if he were personally offended. “Well, first things first, when we get back to Earth we are _definitely_ taking a road trip. _Then_ we’ll go on our spacecation.”

Zim cast a brief glance in the sky, likely in the direction of Earth, certainly millions of miles away. “…Is it strange that Zim almost wishes he was back on that pathetic dirtball right now?”

“Not at all.” Dib looked up at the sky with him- the many suns and moons dotting the colorful skies of Meekrob, while certainly holding their own celestial beauty, couldn’t help but remind Dib of Earth sunsets- with _one_ sun. “I’m a little homesick too.”

* * *

“Attention fellow Irken soldiers! As you may or may not know, we are currently at war with the ragtag rebellion known as the Resisty. Not only are they planning to reach Irk before we do, but they also intend to try and take down our mighty Control Brains! We absolutely _cannot_ let that happen under any circumstances!”

The crowd went wild, roaring with agreement as they clapped excitedly for their new Tallest.

Min took a few seconds to gauge their reactions- it gave her a giddy thrill to see them all looking up to her so obediently. There were no questions or doubts. None of them were thinking about Red or Purple anymore. She was the only one their pathetic little minds needed to focus on.

“However, new information has been brought to my attention. One of the leaders of the rebellion- Irken Zim- you remember him, don’t you?”

The crowd let out a series of disapproving boos and whines, some of them proceeding to shout vulgarities and other various insults. Min merely raised a hand to quiet them- she was rather intrigued by their strong sense of hatred towards Zim. What would it take to get them to change their minds..?

“Our friend Zim isn’t doing too well, you see. If he doesn’t get a new PAK soon then it’s lights out for him. So, we’re going to do just that and lend a helping hand.”

This time, there were no cheers or boos, just confused murmurs and mutters from the Irken soldiers who had only known hatred and disgust for their clumsy former comrade. The concept of helping someone who was clearly beyond help was foreign to them.

“Zim plans to break into the smeet factory all on his own once the Resisty arrives on Irk. I want my best soldiers to capture him, alive and unharmed. He’s weak right now, so inflicting too much damage on him could cause repercussions that not even a new PAK could fix. Meanwhile, I want my best team of scientists to make Zim a brand new PAK. Fully functioning with all the new bells and whistles- I won’t have him being fitted with a broken one.”

“My Tallest,” an elite soldier meekly interrupted, “if I may interject for a moment… Zim is a defective. With all due respect… I’m sure the rest of us want to know… why would you want to save him?”

Luckily for the soldier, Min didn’t seem all too annoyed at having been questioned- it almost seemed as if she was waiting for it. “Excellent question. Yes, Zim is a defective- and pitifully short. But you see, all of that behavior, everything that makes Zim, well, _Zim_ \- that can be corrected with the proper PAK. Except… if at all possible… there is one thing I want you to keep when you fix Zim…”

“W-What might that be, my Tallest..?” the same soldier from before asked.

Min spread her arms out wide in a grand gesture. “His knack for destruction, of course! He and I are similar in the sense that we both get a certain thrill out of pure chaos. I don’t want that to change- that love for absolute _ruin-_ it’s _exactly_ what we need!” She suddenly pointed a clawed finger at the crowd. “If you lot ever want to achieve universal domination then Zim is the key! He just needs a bit of… _fine_ _tuning_. That’s all.”

“My Tallest, you must understand that Zim is… he has a history of violence, and insanity, and- _ruining everything!_ I don’t even know if a new PAK could fix him…”

“But don’t you _get it?”_ Suddenly she was within inches of the helpless soldier’s face, her smile wicked and her pink eyes wild with a desire he had never seen before in another Irken. “Violence and insanity is _exactly_ what we need! We’ve been trying for years to take over the universe by plowing through space, conquering planets at our leisure while our pitiful excuses for Tallests sit back and gorge themselves on snacks! Aren’t you tired of it?! Think about it Res, when have I ever asked you to serve me snacks?”

“N-Never, my Tall-“

“Exactly!” She was then addressing the stunned crowd again as she spoke. “Listen well. I know some of you out there are still loyal to our former embarrassments- and for you all, I have just one favor to ask you. I want you to remember every time you were called inferior, or told to do something that made no sense. I want you to really think about the last time you were ever offered a promotion, or the opportunity to blast planets into nothing! If you entrust yourself and your skills to me, I can assure you that I will make _very_ good use of you.” She paused to then throw her arms out wide again. “So, what do you say?! Place your trust in me, you _impudent saps_ … and I’ll take excellent care of you..!”

The crowd cheered- hollering and clapping in her honor. Her smile only grew- yes, this was it. This was what she had been craving. They needed to love her. If they didn’t, then all of this was pointless.

And if the rest of the universe did not love her as they did, then she would show them what true fear tasted like.


	8. Completion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chip has been completed, and Lard Nar and the crew are preparing to leave for Irk, but an unexpected event holds them back. Meanwhile back on Earth Tak finishes fixing her ship and prepares to leave. Zim's condition worsens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayooo sorry for the wait but i've been distracted with other fandoms. but i said i was going to finish this fic and i will, so here we go, chapter 8! enjoy!

It had all finally paid off- the slow, stressful work on the chip had all led to this. The weapon that would take down the Control Brains once and for all. 

“We’re leaving? So soon?”

“There’s no time to waste!” Lard Nar could barely contain his giddy chuckle as he held the new and improved chip in his palm. “The chip has been completed, and according to our scouts the Massive is already on its way back to Irk! We’re behind schedule- we should be glad we got this finished in time.” He set the chip down on the table next to them and clapped his shoulder. “We couldn’t have done this without you. Sure, Atra and her team of experts may have designed the first one, but _your_ design is… well, I’d have to say it’s a stroke of genius, especially for a human!”

Dib couldn’t help but smirk a bit, puffing up ever so slightly at the praise. “Thank you sir. I appreciate that- frankly it’s about time someone noticed...”

“I take it your achievements weren’t well received on Earth?” Lard Nar inquired as he placed the chip back into its case.

Dib pouted, recalling the bitter memories of being told that he'd never achieve anything in life as a paranormal investigator- by his father, his teachers, his doctors. If only they could see him now. “No, not particularly. The only one who ever really appreciated them was- _Zim_ , as weird as that sounds.”

“You should take it as a compliment,” Lard Nar said. “Irkens are a highly advanced species, eons ahead of Earth in technological advancements.”

“Well…” An uneasy grin crept across his face. “Aside from the fact that it’s all in Irken, it’s not _that_ hard to figure out… I mean, it may have taken me seven years to get Tak’s ship to do what I wanted, but still...!”

“Tak?”

“Oh, she was just this Irken that tried to steal Zim’s mission from him and destroy the Earth- my sister and I helped Zim stop her.”

Lard Nar’s eyes narrowed curiously, head tilting ever so slightly. “Sis…ter..?”

Oh no- he was _not_ getting stuck explaining human reproduction to an alien. He’d already had that talk once with Zim and that had been one of the most uncomfortable days in his entire life- he certainly wasn’t going to do it again. “It’s uh… not important.”

“Mm. Still though, that’s quite admirable. A human child taking down an Irken elite… that’s unheard of.”

“Aha…” Dib grinned sheepishly- he wasn’t used to so much praise in one day. “Well, you know… didImentionIwasthetopofmyclass?”

“What?”

“Nothing! It’s uh… nothing.” He _really_ had to get better at remembering that aliens were likely not going to know anything about Earth culture. The only one who seemed to be somewhat familiar with it was Infera- but she had always been interested in those sorts of things. 

Lard Nar squinted curiously at him again, but let the comment slide. Humans were often strange, saying peculiar things he didn’t really understand. Sometimes he wondered if Dib knew just how alien he really was. “Listen, I’d just like to say… even if we fail… I don’t regret recruiting you.”

“I… that’s… wow. Thank you.” Dib’s eyes fell to the floor, suddenly finding it particularly interesting to look at as his cheeks warmed considerably. “I don’t regret coming here. I’m finally doing what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a kid- save the Earth. Also meeting aliens and fighting in an intergalactic war is… pretty cool too.”

“I am glad that we were both able to help each other, even if only a little.” Lard Nar stuck out his hand. “If we do manage to somehow miraculously survive this… can I call on you again for help in the future?”

Dib tried not to let his poor choice of words get to him as he took the captain’s hand into his own. “…Definitely. Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Good… you know, I would like to visit your ‘Earth’ sometime,” Lard Nar said idly, his hand slipping out of Dib’s grasp. “I think it would be a nice change of scenery from the cold vacuum of space.”

Dib smiled down at him. “I’ll have to show you around sometime.”

“Captain, I hate to interrupt but we’ve got a problem.”

Both Dib and Lard Nar looked up to meet the concerned eyes of Meosori as he staggered into the room, leaning against the doorway for support. He looked like he’d been running for a while, his chest heaving, body layered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“What’s wrong?” Lard Nar asked.

“It’s our prisoners,” Meosori said through choppy breaths, “they’re _gone.”_

* * *

 “It’s… finished…”

 _“Finished!”_ Tak exclaimed joyously, gesturing to her new and improved ship. “Finally, after all this time..!”

Gaz’s attention shifted to the finished Voot Cruiser- ‘The Voot 2.0’, as Tak had named it. It almost looked good as new… _almost._

“Something’s missing,” she declared, eyeing it critically.

Tak frowned, insulted that Gaz would even _think_ that she had forgotten something. “What do you mean something’s missing? I ran diagnostic tests over and over on this thing- it says everything is in place and functioning properly! And best of all- I didn’t even need to buy any parts from Irk! It was all right here on… Earth…”

Tense silence fell between them. Neither of them needed to say it- it was something they both knew was coming from the start. It all just seemed so overwhelming now that the time was finally upon them.

“Well,” Gaz finally said, daring to break the silence, “before you go running off into space, this thing could use a paint job.”

“A paint job?” Tak rolled her eyes. “Nonsense. It’s just got a few scratches, that’s all.”

Gaz raised a brow, putting on her best look of doubt and disbelief. Tak looked back and forth between her and the multiple scratches that blemished the appearance of her new and improved Voot Cruiser, and let out a reluctant sigh of defeat.

“Alright, _fine._ We’ll paint it if it'll keep you quiet." 

“Good. What colors?”

“The same colors of course, what other colors would I use?”

“Well, are there any colors you like?”

Tak shook her head. “Not particularly.”

“…I like purple.”

“That _is_ purple.”

“That’s a _light_ purple,” Gaz corrected. “Why not try something darker?”

Tak drummed a finger against her chin. “Hm… well, a darker color might be better for stealth…”

“So then it’s decided.” Gaz reached into her pocket and fished out her keys. “Let’s go get some paint.”

“You drive now?”

“Did you not hear me when I told you that I was going to take my license test yesterday?”

“...You just acquired the ability to drive an Earth vehicle  _yesterday_?”

“I didn’t ‘acquire it’, I _learned it. Over time._ ”

“How pitiful,” she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “If you were Irken, all you’d have to do is download ‘driving’ data into your PAK and you’d know how to do it instantly.”

“Yeah, well I’m not Irken. Are we going or are you just going to stand there and keep making comments about how inferior humans are?”

Tak rolled her eyes again. “Yes yes, I’m coming,” she grumbled, just barely fighting off the tiniest of smiles. The purple-haired human was definitely annoying, but her attitude was almost… refreshing, in a way.

It led her to wonder if Gaz still wanted her to leave. Not that it mattered either way, but the curiosity was eating away at her in a way that it never had before. This damn planet had a habit of changing people- she never guessed that it would end up happening to her as well.

Maybe Zim wasn’t the only defective one.

* * *

 “I’m sorry- _come again?”_

“They’re _gone,”_ Meosori repeated. “Zim just reported that he went to go check on them and they weren’t in their room. We have all of our soldiers searching the immediate area for them, but there’s no trace of them anywhere. I… I think this means we can assume the worst.”

“The Tallests… they’re going back to Irk, aren’t they..?” Dib didn’t have to ask- he knew the answer all too well. They wouldn’t have taken the risk of escaping unless they knew for sure that they could get off the planet.

Lard Nar began pacing anxiously around the room, clutching at his horns in frustration. “But why? They appointed a new Tallest- they can’t just go back and reclaim the throne, can they?”

“Irken law is foggy and not very concise,” Meosori explained. “But that’s to be expected from a planet that chooses its leaders based off their height. Anything could happen. Min was not elected by traditional means and was never entered into the Control Brain system as a Tallest. Therefore, theoretically… there are probably many Irkens that are still loyal to Red and Purple.”

“They must have been counting on that,” Dib added. “Otherwise they never would’ve turned themselves in. But why? Why do it in the first place?”

Meosori shrugged. “If I had to guess, it was likely to take out Zim- it’s what I would’ve done. Get inside the enemy base and take out the biggest threat.”

“They consider Zim the biggest threat?”

“Of course- he’s the one that’s been messing with their plans ever since he was hatched. He was a threat to them even before he rebelled. It makes sense that they’d want to target him.”

Panic settled in like a heavy weight in Dib’s chest. “Then that means they’ve done something to Zim..! What did they do?! Is he okay?!”

Meosori nodded. “He’s fine- but he refused to elaborate on what happened. He made it sound as though nothing went wrong.”

It was all starting to click into place, realization setting in. They _knew. They had to know._ His stomach was starting to churn. If he didn’t move now he was going to be sick, yet the dread was so heavy his feet felt like lead, keeping him locked in place. “Fuck… I-I have to go. I have to make sure he’s okay. Lard Nar, keep the chip safe.”

“That’s… the other thing.” Meosori ducked his head low, his hair falling over his face like a curtain. “After I found him on the ship… Zim ran off.”

Dib had to swallow down bile. ** _“What?!”_**

“...I didn’t have time to go after him," he weakly insisted, "I had to go report the Tallest as missing. I’m sorry-“

“They’re already gone!” Dib shouted, face reddening with anger. “They’ve left the planet, but Zim’s still here and he’s our comrade! He should’ve taken priority!”

Meosori raised both hands defensively. “Hey, don’t get emotional. He couldn’t have gotten far. Let’s go look for him together-”

“N-No, I’ll find him on my own. If you wanted to look for him you would’ve done it already." With a new motivation, he was able to move again, although the question of what they did to Zim was still settled deep in the pit of his stomach. "Lard Nar, don’t leave without us! I’ll find Zim, and… “ He paused, debating for a second on whether or not he should mention it. “…Atra too. I’ll bring them both back.”

“Atra… she’s been missing too…” Meosori noted.

Lard Nar sighed. “Atra is with the Meekrob government. She is safe. We needn’t worry about her right now. Go. Find Zim.”

Dib sent him a knowing look, but didn’t prod further before he stormed out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him. He grabbed the communicator off of his hip and brought it close to his face, clicking the button on the side. “Zena, how’s the mission going? Are you any closer to finding her?”

* * *

 ”They _know,”_ Zim said to himself for what had to be the fiftieth time that hour as he paced back and forth through the alleyway. “They’ve known about my PAK this whole time, but how did they find out about my plan? Surely that’s why they left. If they make it back to Irk before we do, they’ll do whatever it takes to keep me from getting into the smeet factory..! Damn it!”

Gir, who before had been entertaining himself with a stick and some leaves he’d brought from Earth, suddenly gasped loudly as if he were afraid. “Don’t use bad words master! The TV monkey says they bad!”

“But it doesn’t make any sense!” Zim tugged on his antennae in frustration, despite the pain it caused him to do so. “How could they have found out? We kept them completely isolated, there’s no way they could’ve discovered my plan! I only shared it with… you…”

Zim glanced down at his robot companion, who looked right back up at him with wide cyan eyes, blinking innocently.

“Gir, come here.”

“Oooooh, are we playin’ a game?”

“…Yes, we are. It’s called ‘Obey Your Master’.”

Gir dropped the stick he’d been holding, bouncing like a child on a sugar rush. “How do I play?!”

“The rules are simple, Gir. You play by doing whatever I ask of you without question,” Zim explained.

“What do I gets if I win?”

“What did I tell you about questions? Do you want to play the game or don’t you?!”

Gir nodded- and for a moment Zim feared his head might pop off with the ferocity of it. “YES!”

“Good Gir. Now then, your first order: come to your master.”

Gir briefly glowed red, saluting as he always did before moving to sit dutifully on his master’s lap.

“Excellent. Now, your next order: stay still.”

“Yes sir!”

When he was sure that Gir was fully stable and not going anywhere, Zim carefully pressed the button that opened Gir’s head. Upon first glance nothing looked too out of the ordinary- the left side was sticky with what appeared to be honey, some leaves, a dead insect, a small pig plushy, and-

Something shiny caught his eye. Tentatively, Zim reached inside and felt around, pausing when he felt a tiny metal object brushing against his fingers. It didn’t appear to be secure- and if it wasn’t secured, it certainly wasn’t a part of Gir. He grabbed it and pulled it out, and once he was able to inspect it, he immediately recognized it as Irken technology.

“This is… this is a spy bug! The Tallest must have had them with them when they were captured..!”

“Oooh, I got more bugs in me, wanna see?!”

“Quiet Gir! This is how they found out… ugh!” Zim smacked his free hand against his forehead. “Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I not have predicted that they’d do something like this?! Of course they knew what they were doing before they turned themselves in..! Ugh!”

He settled against the wall of the building he had ran to. So that was it then. If Min and the others hadn’t made it back to Irk already, then surely Red and Purple would make it back. Either way, it was pointless now. There was no doubt that they had spread the news about his PAK halfway across the galaxy.

_My body is getting weaker every day._

His PAK, his life support, everything he was… he was starting to despise it more and more. Why did he, the great and powerful Zim, have to be so reliant on such a device? He was Zim, and he needed no one and nothing… except his PAK. That stupid device that was implanted into his back within ten seconds of his hatching. Without it he was an empty shell.

So much for the very flawed idea of Irken perfection. 

Just like the Tallest had tried to define his worth through his height, this damn PAK… he was worth nothing without it. Just a lifeless body with no ambitions, no memories, no nothing. That existence awaited him if he continued on like this- life as a sickly nothing.

A coughing fit- he had become all too familiar with them over the past few months- overcame him again as he doubled over and coughed into his open hands. His chest ached with every cough and with every breath he took. The more he walked now, the more his bones ached. Sleeping helped. Eating helped. But it would only help for so long.

Gir, who was still settled comfortably in his lap, held him through his fit wordlessly.

“This illness is starting to become a damn _nuisance…”_ Zim said gruffly, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “I _despise_ nuisances.”

That got Gir started about wanting to take his temperature again, and the next two minutes were spent trying to keep his filthy metal hands _out_ of his mouth.

“The Dib-thing will surely force me into seeing the doctor if I tell him what’s been happening… but we don’t have time for that. The chip has been completed and we’re one step closer to victory. I will not rest until our victory has been assured.”

Another coughing fit came, only this time it didn’t stop.

They usually faded within a few seconds, but the coughs kept coming, and before long he was fighting for breath, desperately trying to get air in before the next cough. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, blood spattering onto the ground. The pain in his chest, once a dull ache, was now throbbing madly. His 'spooch was doing flips and if it kept up like _this_ -

Zim could just barely make out Gir’s concerned face before his vision went black and his knees buckled, causing him to fall right into the puddle of bloodied saliva beneath him.


	9. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tak finally finishes work on her ship and prepares to leave, but faces an unexpected dilemma. Meanwhile Dib manages to safely recover Zim, but his state leaves him racing against the clock to get back to the ship so they can leave for Irk. Desperate and out of options, the undercover squad that Dib sent to rescue Atra puts a new plan into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends sorry for the wait, depression and other fandoms got me distracted. 
> 
> but i'm back now with more terrible content! enjoy!

“Are you really going to leave?”

Tak looked over her shoulder at her human companion. She was covered in paint stains after she had stayed up all night to help her finish her completely-necessary-for-space-travel ship makeover. She had told her quite a few times that there was no need for her to stay awake to finish it. Tak was all too eager to remind her that humans needed sleep, whereas she could work for hours and be unaffected. 

_“I like stuff like this,”_ she had admitted- probably due to lack of sleep. _“Painting is like meditating for me.”_

It was then when Tak had proceeded to ask what meditation was, only for Gaz to chuckle to herself and not give her an answer.

“What else would I do?” she retorted with a sigh. “Stay _here?_ On this pathetic excuse for a planet?”

Gaz shrugged before moving to seat herself next to her. Lately, the roof had been a frequent getaway spot for the both of them. “Is the idea really that crazy? I mean, you said so yourself. The Irken Empire is in shambles. Even if you _did_ make it back…”

She _almost_ flinched at her words. Saying it to herself was one thing, but having someone else say it back to you out-loud felt entirely different. “I _know_ that there’s nothing left for me on Irk anymore,” she choked out, as if the words were sticking to her tongue. “I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand, but Irkens… we are not designed to stay in one space for the rest of our lives. We’re conquerors by nature.”

“…So you mean you get restless?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

Gaz drummed her fingers against the rooftop, making a small, quiet humming sound as she thought. “Where are you gonna go then?”

Tak shrugged. “I… don’t really know. If the Empire falls once and for all then there will be no safe place for an Irken. The entire universe, including the planets we’ve conquered, will rise against us.” Her fists clenched tightly. “That’s… part of the reason I wanted to go back. I thought… I thought if I came back, and I helped to get some sort of plan together, then maybe…”

“…But then you got that transmission.”

Tak nodded grimly. “Yes. I don’t know the full extent of what’s going on right now, but I do know that my return will have little to no impact on whether or not the Empire succeeds. Zim might be able to fight against them freely, with no regard for the future of his own race, but… a future where the Empire falls is a future of doom and failure for all of Irkenkind. We’d be lost among the stars, captured as war criminals by the Resisty and all other planets that have taken their side.”

“…Isn’t it fair game though? You did kind of enslave and conquer their homes. Don’t they have a right to kick you out?”

Tak _did_ flinch this time- Gaz certainly didn’t hold anything back. She had to admit, she sort of admired that about her. “I suppose. Like I said, it’s in our nature to conquer. But if the tables were turned, we would probably do the same thing. Still… the Irkens like Zim, the Irkens like _me…_ what will become of them? If Zim is not fighting for them then who is?”

Gaz had to admit- she had a point. Even as a bystander to this whole thing she had learned that Zim was different from the other Irkens, and as it turned out, Tak was too. Both Tak and Zim would berate her for even thinking it, but the defectives almost seemed human.

She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they chose to embrace their blossoming humanity instead of rejecting it.

But as much as a part of her wanted Tak to stay (for a reason that she still wasn’t quite sure of), she knew she couldn’t control her, and that if Tak wanted to leave then she would. Frankly, she wasn’t even sure why she was trying so hard to get her to stick around when it was obvious that she wanted nothing more than to be back where she belonged- in the stars.

Irkens could not be bound to one place, and perhaps it was selfish of her to try and keep her when she wasn’t even meant to be here in the first place. It was almost like keeping a bird imprisoned in a tiny cage with no room to fly.

…Or, perhaps being just a bit greedy wouldn’t hurt, even if it _was_ likely to actually hurt her in the end.

“If there’s really no safe place for you anymore, then just stay here.” She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world- of _course_ she should stay, _of course_ she should leave behind everything she’s ever known and start a new life. “Earth isn’t involved in that stupid space drama. And your disguise is pretty damn impressive. It would be easy for you to blend in.”

Tak looked down at her holographic human hands- so _fake_ , and _so_ unnatural. “So you’re suggesting that I live my whole life pretending to be something I’m not?”

Gaz shrugged. “Better than being a war prisoner.”

Tak smiled bitterly. “Suppose you’re right there.”

“But, if you really feel like you need to go, then… I can’t stop you.” Gaz rose to her feet. “Do whatever you want, I guess.”

She then turned to leave, walking slowly so as not to lose her footing, before Tak turned and gently tugged on her pantleg.

“Wait,” she said gently. “Do you… want to stop me?”

Gaz pulled her leg out of her grasp. “…What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked defensively, the glow of the moonlight giving her reddening face away.

“It’s a rather simple question,” she insisted. “Do you not want me to leave?”

“Maybe simple to _you_ ,” Gaz corrected. “So what if I don’t want you to leave? It won’t stop you from doing what you want anyway, so just forget about it.”

“I mean it.” Tak stood up alongside her, the chill of the night air blowing fake hair into her face. “I’m not asking to patronize you. I’m asking because I’m curious.”

Something inside her cracked.

Gaz whirled around on her heels, facing her former house-guest with a furious glint in her eyes. _“God,_ it doesn’t fucking matter, okay?! Why would _you_ care?! You’re going to go anyway, right? So just go! Go _run off into space._ It seems like that’s all that the people around me are _good at._ ”

“What are you angry at me for?!” Tak retorted, throwing her hands up in the air as an act of exasperation. “Me coming here was an accident! _You_ were the one who opened up your home to me- you could’ve easily done what any other of your filthy primitive kind would’ve done- called law enforcement and reported an alien on their doorstep. But you _didn’t! You could’ve let me die and you didn’t!”_

_“Because I’m a decent fucking person!”_ Gaz screamed back. All caution seemed to have been thrown to the wind; her movements seemed to no longer be planned around the fact that she was on the roof. “Because I’m not a _fucking asshole_ like you assume every other human is! Because not every human treats people like they’re inferior.” She shrugged, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. “But what would _you_ know about that, right? You’ve spent your whole life looking down on people. You never once thought to look up into a fucking mirror and realize that maybe _you’re_ the problem.”

Before Tak could retaliate or even so much as attempt to stop her, Gaz was quickly making her way over to the ladder she had used to get up there in the first place. Just as she was about to turn around and climb down, her foot slipped against the edge of the railing. She grasped frantically at the ladder, trying to catch herself, but her fingers couldn't get a strong enough grasp, and before she knew it she was plummeting towards the ground.

She tightly shut her eyes, awaiting the cold, hard impact of the asphalt, but it never came. The rushing of the wind against her ears suddenly stopped. It was like the world had gone completely silent, and for all she knew it had.

When she found the courage to open her eyes again, she realized that she was mere seconds from making impact with the ground. A metal hand was clutched tightly in the fabric of her shirt, keeping her in place. She didn’t have to look up to know who the metal hand belonged to.

She remained silent as she was slowly pulled back up to the roof, the metal arm of Tak’s PAK pulling her upwards as cautiously as possible. When she was finally brought back to the roof, she was gently set down across from Tak, the PAK arm retreating back into the small device.

Neither of them spoke for a good few minutes, what with Gaz trying to process the fact that she had almost died, and Tak unsure of how to continue seeing as how Gaz had been screaming in anger at her moments before she fell.

“I-“

“Thanks.” Gaz quickly interrupted with a small huff. “You… I didn’t think you-“

“What? Didn’t think I would save you?”

Gaz nodded.

“Hmph.” Tak turned to face the moon. “Perhaps Irkens are not what you think they are, either.”

* * *

What felt like hours passed and there had been no luck. Dib had tried over and over again to reach Zim on his communicator but there was never any response- just the gentle whirring of static. Dib was starting to wonder if Zim had even taken it with him before he left. Knowing him, probably not.

Lard Nar had called him multiple times, asking him where he was and if he wanted him to send backup. Dib had refused to answer him every time. He was going to find Zim on his own- like _hell_ he was going to wait around for an army. 

Dib rounded corner after corner, searched building after building, trudged through alleyway after alleyway. Everything so far had been a dead end. He was exhausted and way too far from the ship, especially since it had been quite a few hours since he’d last slept or had anything to eat. Despite his body telling him over and over again to slow down and rest, he refused. He could sleep and eat when he knew Zim was safe.

Repeating that in his head like a mantra to keep himself motivated, he ventured down another long path, expecting yet another disappointment, but was surprised when he heard a faint but familiar squealing sound.

_“It’s coming from over there…”_

He followed the source of the sound as it got louder and louder, hoping it wasn’t just a citizen. But as the sound got louder it got more recognizable as well, and it was then when Dib realized that the voice could belong to no one else but Gir.

“Gir!” he exclaimed. “Gir, it’s me! Where are you?!”

On second thought, perhaps calling out to Zim’s insane robot probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was all he had to go on right now. If anyone knew where Zim was, it was Gir.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait long. Within seconds Gir, splattered in pink liquid, was scurrying up to him, clutching tightly at his leg. “MARY! Master needs you Mary! He’s all sick and goopy!”

“Goopy?” Dib bent down and pried Gir off of his leg to get a good look at him. “Gir, what… what’s that stuff all over you..?”

“Master’s _goop!_ He gots it _everywhere!”_

It didn’t take long for Dib to figure out what ‘goop’ was referring to. He blanched, swallowing hard. “Gir, do you know where Zim is?”

“Sure do!”

“Can you take me to him? I can help him.”

Gir nodded and motioned for Dib to follow him. Dib had to admit, Gir had been a lifesaver these past few months- he was rather glad that Zim had decided to bring him along. And he _never_ thought he'd ever be saying that.

Gir led Dib to a back alleyway that looked like it hadn’t seen civilization in quite a while- it was as if time hadn’t caught this place in its grasp, a remnant of what Meekrob used to be like. He spotted Zim lying on the ground a few feet away, shaking violently, curled in tightly on himself as if he were trying to preserve body heat.

“Zim!” Dib was quick to drop to his knees once he approached him, immediately pulling Zim into his lap. “Zim, please, wake up!”

God, how long had Zim been hiding his worsening condition? His pale, sickly green face seemed to lack life. Pink, translucent blood dripped from the corners of his mouth and coated his body in other various places- had he thrown up blood? He gently pressed the back of his hand against Zim’s cheek- it was _ice_ cold. While he was no expert on Irken biology, he highly doubted that it was normal.

Despite the fact that Zim was sticky and looked mere seconds away from vomiting his squeedlyspooch out, Dib pulled him into his arms, trying to give him as much of his own body heat as he possibly could. He hadn’t brought his jacket with him, and now he was cursing himself for that as he pulled the communicator off of his hip and brought it to his face. “I found Zim. Get a medic team ready- he’s sick.”

Dib cradled Zim tightly against him, and after calling for Gir to follow, he hurriedly began to make his way back.

He could only hope that Zim would hold out long enough.

“Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly as he ran. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be alright.”

He could’ve sworn he felt Zim twitch against him.

* * *

“So she’s definitely in the Capital?”

Zena nodded. “Yes. There’s no doubt about it. Zevven probably knew that we’d attempt a rescue and planned for it by securing Atra in one of the most difficult places on the planet to break into.”

“Great.” Fruo huffed. “So… how the hell are we supposed to get in there? We don’t exactly have an army on our side, you know.”

“We can’t,” Darli answered simply. “If we go in there now we’ll all be captured, and then the Resisty will have a much bigger problem on their hands. We just don’t have the manpower to go in there.”

“W-Well we have to do _something_ ,” Dei insisted. “We can’t just leave her!”

“There might be one thing we can try,” Zena said. “The Meekrob people are telepathic, right?”

Fruo cocked a brow. “Yeah? What’s your point?”

“My _point_ is,” she said, glaring at Fruo, “that if the other person or people they’re communicating with has a high enough brain capacity, then they can also send and receive telepathic messages to and from the Meekrob people. The only problem is, here on Meekrob, all telepathic messages are monitored by The Ones.”

“So..?”

_“So_ , if we all focus hard enough, we can send a telepathic message to Atra, tell her what’s going on, and convince her to get in on the plan! If we have her help, then we just might be able to pull off a rescue! And The Ones will be none the wiser since we’re not from Meekrob!”

“But how do we know that Atra will actually want to escape?” Darli challenged. “If I recall, Atra willingly turned herself in for the benefit of the mission. Would it not be wrong for us to interfere?”

“Whose side are you on?” Fruo narrowed his eyes at his companion, shaking his head as if he were disappointed. “Dib said so himself, Atra made a selfish decision without consulting anyone but the captain, and he _let it happen._ Even if we were to try and get everyone else to help, the captain doesn’t see it as an issue. We've got to take care of this on our own.”

“Exactly,” Zena said, a hint of a smile pulling at her usually expressionless face. “We can do this, and we don't need the captain's approval. We can get Atra back on our side and back to the ship so we can leave for Irk. But first, we all need to create psychic links with each other. The best way to do that would be for us to join hands, close our eyes and concentrate.”

The four of them closed their eyes, slipping their hands into each other’s grasps as they all tried to focus closely and intensely on each other’s energies. While each of their people had their own methods and ideas for what telepathy meant and entailed, one thing was certain. In this moment, they were one. One entity, one being, entirely connected- both physically and mentally.

_Let’s bring our friend home once and for all._

* * *

While doing research for her Earth travels, Atra read storybooks.

She used to read fairy-tales of human females who were locked in towers and awaited the males to come slay the beast that guarded her and rescue her. Then the two of them would naturally fall in love and wed soon after. It was like it was- _meant_ to be. Of course she knew that it was just a story, but her current predicament didn’t leave her with much else to do but think and ponder.

She was much like those human females. Locked away in the Capital building while Meekrob society crumbled around her. Zevven toyed with her like a puppet, playing her like a pawn in his sick game.

_"Zevven must be the beast,"_ she thought to herself with a snicker.

But it was a game that she agreed to play. Truthfully, she was just as much to blame for all of this as he was. She was no better than him.

An odd sensation weighing hot and heavy against the back of her head suddenly had her reeling. What was this feeling? It was like something was spilling over her, seeping through the cracks, threatening to break through-

_“ATRA!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated designs for infera and tallest min are on my instagram @haileydoesart. expect more art of my other oc's to come!


	10. Another You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pout pulled at the Irken’s lips. “Why do you not touch Zim?”
> 
> Dib grinned teasingly. “Why, did you want me to?”
> 
> Zim huffed haughtily. “No,” he said. “Of course not. Keep your filthy meat paws off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! sorry i was dead for a month?? 
> 
> but in order to make up for it, I bring you an all zim and dib chapter! this one's gonna be heavy on the feels so enjoy!

Dib paced around anxiously outside the door, eagerly awaiting some sort of update on Zim’s condition. It had been about a half an hour since he’d brought Zim back to the ship and so far, aside from some shuffling and hushed voices- he hadn’t heard much in that room.

God, why did Zim have to be so… _Zim?_ Why couldn’t he have just gone and taken care of it like he said he did? Then again, with their limited resources, is there anything they can really do for him?

Dib shook his head- he couldn’t think like that. Right now he had to try and remain positive for the both of them. It was all they really had. 

Growing ever more impatient, he was just about to go track down Vythani himself, but paused when he heard his communicator going off. Dib pulled it off his belt, and after hitting the answer button he was surprised to hear the voice of his father.

_“Dib, it’s me! Can you hear me?”_

“Dad!” Dib exclaimed with a smile, oddly relieved to hear a familiar, human voice after so long. “Yes, I can hear you! How did you..?”

_”Oddly enough, your sister found a way to patch me through. But the connection is weak, so I won’t be able to talk long. How… how are you doing?”_

“I… I’m fine.” Dib was the furthest thing from fine right now, but he couldn’t possibly dump their whole situation onto him. He wouldn’t have time to explain it all. “I’m managing. How about you? And Gaz?”

_“Oh, things are fine here. Work is, well… work. Gaz has been a bit distant lately, but… I suppose that’s nothing new. She was asking about you yesterday, to see if I had heard from you.”_

Dib couldn’t help but smile. So Gaz _had_ worried for him. “Oh…”

_“Listen, son… I know you’re busy and I know that this is hardly the time, but… I don’t know when you’re coming back._ You _don’t even know when you’re coming back… and I didn’t get the chance to tell you before you left. There is... something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time now.”_

Dib’s heart-rate picked up. He sat down in the open chair by the door- he wasn't sure what made him feel like he had to be sitting, but something in his father's tone was the slightest bit off-putting. “Okay… what is it?”

He heard his father draw in a deep breath.

_“This is really a conversation we should be having face to face. But this has been eating at me for weeks and as your father I feel I should inform you.”_

Another pause, another long inhale.

_“Son, your mother, she… she didn’t die in a car accident.”_

Dib’s heart nearly stopped.

“…What..?”

_“Your mother… she…”_

“She’s alive?!” Dib exclaimed. “Dad, this is great! I-I didn’t really get to know what a mom was as a kid but maybe now I can! Where is she? Maybe I can-“

_“She doesn’t exist.”_

Dib’s mouth stopped moving. Everything stopped. Time itself stopped.

“C…Come again..?”

_“She doesn’t exist. You don’t have a mother- and neither does Gaz. You two are both clones that I created.”_

The professor took Dib’s astonished silence as a cue to continue.

_“You in particular Dib, are a complete clone of me. Everything from your physical appearance to your intellect- it’s all from me. As for Gaz- a good colleague of mine donated her DNA. I wanted to see if there was an alternative to natural childbirth, and well- it was a success.”_

“S-So you…” Dib paused to swallow thickly, fighting back tears, “you didn’t… didn’t want me? You made me for an experiment?”

_“Please don’t misunderstand,”_ he pleaded, _“I wanted this. I was ready for children and the responsibility of them. But I… this was something I wanted to study for years, and finding someone to settle down with…”_

“So you wanted children but you didn’t want to fall in love? What kind of excuse is that? And why did you hide it from me all this time?”

_“I was afraid that if I told you too early you wouldn’t understand and you’d lash out and reject me- like you’re doing now. I was going to tell you on your 18 th birthday- but when the time came, I was too afraid to come clean. I’m sorry the truth had to come forward like this- but it was something that I couldn’t keep to myself anymore. Especially… knowing that you could be gone for a very long time.”_

“…So there is no me,” Dib mumbled through tears. “There’s just- just _you_. I’m just another you.”

_“Dib-“_

He couldn’t listen anymore- not right now, not with his current situation. He clicked the end button and clipped the communicator back onto his belt.

As if on cue, he heard the door click open. Vythani walked out to greet him, his face impassive as usual, save for the rare warm smile that Dib had only seen on a few occasions.

“Vythani, how is he?”

Vythani winced, as if he hadn’t been expecting that question. “He’s… stable. You got him here just in time.”

The weight settled deep in the pit of his stomach lifted as he let out a sigh of relief. “That- that’s great..!”

“Yes, well…” Vythani’s eyes nervously flitted to the door. “His condition is a bit… complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“To put it simply, Zim has always been a defective- his PAK has never functioned properly, even with all the upgrades he’s tried to give it over the years. And it seems that now, especially with his new emotions, it’s finally catching up to him. The PAK is recognizing these changes in his brain chemistry as an illness and is trying to combat it, and unfortunately, Zim is suffering from the side effects,” Vythani explained.

Now Dib remembered- Zim had mentioned this before. But of course, Zim being Zim, he blew it off as nothing to worry about. “Well, is there any way to cure it? There’s got to be some way to fix his PAK. I mean, it’s a machine!”

Vythani shook his head. “PAK’s are extremely delicate. One wrong move and you could kill him. Not to mention that we barely had the technology to stabilize Zim, let alone cure him permanently.”

“What do you mean..?”

“We put a device inside Zim’s PAK to keep it from attacking his body- but it won’t last forever. The only viable long-term option is a new PAK.”

“You can’t do that!” Dib protested. “If he gets a new PAK he won’t be Zim anymore- he’ll be somebody else!”

“If he _doesn’t_ get a new PAK he’ll be _dead_ ,” Vythani countered gruffly. “Which would you prefer?”

Dib’s glare was fierce. With a huff he broke the tense eye contact, fists clenching at his sides. “We’ll talk about it later. Can I go see him?”

“Yes, but be careful- and try not to touch him. Exposure to outside germs when his squeedlyspooch is so weak is probably not the best.”

Dib shot him another glare before slipping past him to get to the door.

* * *

Zim’s eyes slowly slid open when he heard the door click.

“Dib-human,” he murmured with recognition. “My favorite human.”

He watched his face light up with a smile as he took a seat next to him. “My favorite human?” Dib repeated with a chuckle. “You must really be sick.”

Zim let out a humorless laugh in response. “Please. We’re practically two bees in a bush.”

“It’s ‘two peas in a pod’, Zim.”

“Whatever. I’m sick so I’m excused, am I not?”

“Sure you are.” Dib reached out to stroke his antennae- something the both of them had grown accustomed to as of late- but quickly stopped himself after remembering what Vythani said.

A pout pulled at the Irken’s lips. “Why do you not touch Zim?”

Dib grinned teasingly. “Why, did you want me to?”

Zim huffed haughtily. “No,” he said. “Of course not. Keep your filthy meat paws off.”

Dib couldn’t resist giggling a bit this time. “Doctor’s orders,” he replied. “I’m not supposed to expose you to any more germs because of your weakened state.”

“Weak?!” Zim shouted, abruptly sitting up. “Urgh, that _insufferable_ -!”

“Hey, take it easy!” Dib quickly urged him to lie back down, settling into the mattress once more. “You’re sick, don’t exacerbate it. I know you’ve probably never heard this in your life, but you can relax.”

“I _can’t_ relax!” Zim insisted, slamming his gloved fist against the mattress. “How am I supposed to go up against the Irken Empire like _this?!”_

In his fit of anger, he glanced over at Dib and noticed the way the human’s face flashed with what could only be pity. Brows knitted together, pale lips drawn into a thin soft line.

“Ugh! You’re doing it again!”

“Doing what?!”

“You’re looking at me with that stupid face! It’s the same idiotic face you made when I told you the truth about my mission! Just stop it! Stop looking at me like that!” 

“How am I _supposed_ to look at you?!” Dib retorted. He was half-expecting an actual answer.

“Look at Zim like you believe he will take down the Empire!”

Dib abruptly fell silent. The look he had was completely gone, faded into something far more melancholy. He couldn’t do that to Zim, couldn’t give him false hope for something that they both knew couldn’t happen in his current state. Could he?

Zim looked so desperate. His eyes were wide and focused, his mouth twitching. He looked ready to come apart at any second.

“You don’t,” Zim finally said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “You don’t- you don’t think Zim can-“

“You’re sick,” Dib told him, as if he didn’t already know. “And I’m not talking like the common cold, here. I can’t promise you something like that knowing that you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Zim countered. “A pathetic failure? A disgrace not only to Irkenkind but now to the whole universe as well?”

Dib’s face fell. “Zim, come on, you _know_ that’s not what I meant.”

“It might as well be!” Zim dramatically flopped back against the mattress. He yanked the covers up over himself so that only his antennae were peeking out from the top.

“Zim, come out of there.”

“No.”

“For me?”

“Definitely no.”

“You can’t hide in there forever.”

“I’m dying anyway, what’s it matter?”

Dib flinched. “Don’t… don’t say that.”

Zim fell silent for a moment. Dib listened as he shifted underneath the blanket. His antennae twitched before he spoke again.

“Dib-thing.”

“What?”

“Do you ever feel as if… the universe is beating you with an unnecessarily large stick, and every time you think you’re about to escape its wrath, it comes back with a hellish vengeance?”

Dib blinked. “That’s… oddly specific, but yeah. I have.”

“It seems as though something doesn’t want me to ever succeed at… well, _anything_.”

“I know the feeling,” Dib muttered gruffly.

“You do?”

“’Course I do. I spent all those years trying to capture you, and well- look how well that turned out. And do you have any idea how long I tried to convince people that the paranormal is real?”

Dib could’ve sworn he heard Zim snicker quietly.

“Do you regret it?” he suddenly asked.

Dib had a feeling that he knew what he meant, but asked anyway. “...Regret what?”

“Not capturing me.”

“I didn’t… _choose_ not to capture you,” Dib weakly insisted. He folded his arms across his chest, cheeks warming against his will. “Totally could’ve if I wanted to, you know. I just… didn’t think you were a threat anymore, that’s all.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I’m serious! But… to answer your question… no. Even if I had captured you and handed you over to the government like I swore I would do so many times… I don’t think it would’ve made me any happier.”

Zim seemed somewhat satisfied with this response. “…I see.”

“…What about you?” Dib asked. “If you got to kill me, or hand me over to your leaders… would you have regretted it?”

Zim’s voice was muffled by the blanket as he spoke. “Zim never regrets anything. But I think… I would not feel the same afterward, had I done such a thing.”

Dib decided for his own comfort to take that as a yes. Zim was weird sometimes, and still trying to figure out how to articulate his newfound feelings. Frankly, Dib was too.

“…You’re not really gonna die, Zim. You know that, right?”

“At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Zim let out a long, aggravated huff. “Perhaps it’s time.”

“No,” Dib said quickly, fervently shaking his head. Doctor’s orders be damned, he reached out and grabbed Zim’s gloved hand. “No, you’re not going anywhere. This isn’t the end, it’s the beginning.”

“For you, perhaps. But not for me. Irkens don’t get new beginnings, Dib. There’s no point in me being alive if I can’t-”

“For _both_ of us,” Dib reiterated, lightly squeezing his hand. “And yes, there is. There’s a reason for everyone to be alive. Even stupid green aliens like you.”

There was an odd look in Zim’s eyes as he rolled over to meet his gaze- a look that Dib couldn’t quite pinpoint. “What is mine?”

“It can be anything you want. You’re alive, Zim. You’re alive and free and you can do whatever you want. I know… that you might not know what to do with that feeling, and that’s fine. That’s why I’m here.”

Zim made a noise of disbelief. “So long as I have this thing on my back I will never know true freedom. This wretched device has hindered me more than it’s ever helped me.”

Dib opened his mouth to make a point about the reason that Irkens were so dependent on their PAK’s, but then realized that Zim must already know. Dib always had a feeling that despite playing dumb, Zim knew deep down. He had to.

“Dib, listen to me.” Zim’s voice dropped to an oddly serious tone. “My former Tallests have likely already reported my plans to swap my PAK back to Irk- they’ll do everything in their power to keep me from getting a new one. And this temporary device that they’ve placed in my current PAK- it won’t last forever. I need you to-“

“No. Don’t finish that sentence. You don’t have to worry, I’ll figure it out. I always do. I’ll build you a whole new PAK if that’s what it takes.” 

“Dib-“

“Shut up. We’re not talking about this right now.”

“We have to.”

Dib ignored him, let go of his hand and rose to his feet. “Rest, Zim. You need your strength.”

Zim didn’t have the energy to fight him further. He let his hand fall to his side and released an aggravated huff. “Stubborn human.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” Dib retorted. “Where’s your fight gone? The old Zim wouldn’t have just accepted this.”

“We’ve been over this,” Zim said somberly. “The old Zim is gone, and now there’s just… _this_. If you could save your disappointment for _after_ I die, that’d be great.”

“Disappointed?” Dib turned around from the doorway, stepping back inside. He narrowed his eyes intensely at Zim- his friend, his comrade, his _everything_. “Is that what you think? You think I’m _disappointed_ in what you’ve become?”

Zim’s antennae flattened against his head. “Look at me!” he shouted back. “I was a miserable failure as an invader, and after I found out the truth about my mission, nothing changed! When I left Earth, I would have _died_ had you not come to rescue me! And now, just when I think I can finally make something of myself, I’m _bedridden_ and _useless._ Deadweight. Yet here _you_ are, Dib. Stupid, _stupid idiotic Dib-thing!_ You’re still thriving, just like you always have. You went on to have many successes… so why did you bring _me_ with you, when all you’ve ever wanted is finally happening right in front of you? Was that it? Did you want to see me fall with your own two eyes? You really are more sadistic than I ever gave you credit for, human-“

“You’re awfully bold, making all those assumptions about me,” Dib interrupted, voice calm and collected as ever.

_“What?”_

“You heard me. _Successes?_ So you think my life was just a fucking walk in the park, huh? Turns out, I’m a fucking clone! I’m not even a real person! And my dad- you know my dad, the one who _lied_ to me about my entire existence- yeah, that one- he sent me to the Crazy House for Boys, where they tried to convince me that you didn’t exist! I got put on medicine that made me _sick_ , but I had to take it because as far as they were concerned, _I wasn’t well_. Not a single person ever believed me. Not dad, not Gaz, no one! The things you call ‘successes’- graduating high school, learning to drive, _going out into space_ \- I did them all on my own, _without_ the support of the people who were supposed to be there for me.” Dib cut himself off with a dry, cynical laugh. “Hell, I couldn’t even do the one thing I swore I would do! You know why? Because every time I thought about you strapped to an operating table my stomach would tie itself in _knots_ a-and I’d feel so _disgusted_ with myself for thinking like that...”

He blinked away tears, reaching under his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “You wanna know why I took you with me, Zim? Because you were all I had. Oddly enough, the one person I thought I hated was the only one who had been with me through thick and thin. Even though more often than not you caused a lot of my problems… I never hated you for it- at least, not anymore than I hated myself for not being able to kill you.”

With that Dib collapsed into the chair next to the bed, sobbing quietly into his hand. Zim watched in stunned silence, mouth working as if he was trying to speak, but no words would come forth.

Dib peeked at Zim through his hand, eyeing him for a reaction. When he got none, he wordlessly stood up to leave. Zim’s hand quickly caught his wrist before he could- and when he felt his warmth through his glove he realized just how much he had been hoping for this. Hoping that Zim wouldn't let him go. 

“...Zim thinks… the Dib is real.”

Dib froze.

“Even if… even if _you_ don’t think you are real… _I_ think you are real.” Gloved claws tightened, pressing gently against the skin of his wrist. _“You_ are real, just as _I_ am real, just as this ship and the people on it are real,” he continued. “You think that being a clone makes you less human? Please. I was cloned, do you think that makes me any less Irken? And so what if your parental unit lied? Has he done enough for you to really be called a parental unit anyhow?”

“B-But… humans aren’t _s-supposed_ to be cloned, and parents, they… they’re not supposed to _lie…”_

“So what? If anything that makes you _better_ than the rest of your inferior kind. You weren’t created like they were. You were created to be smarter, stronger. And you are. Your intelligence is far superior to that of the rest of your kind- you and your sister both. Honestly, your parental unit did you a favor.”

Dib couldn’t even be mad at him for the insult to his species. He sniffled, wiping at his running nose before offering Zim a watery smile. “Yeah. I guess… I guess you’re right.”

Zim met his eyes, and for a second Dib saw his own reflection within the ruby orbs. “Irkens _always_ take pride in what they are. You should do the same.”

“So should you,” Dib shot back. “If I were you, I’d be proud.”

Zim gave him a disbelieving look, but there was a ghost of a smile present on his lips.

Again disregarding the doctor’s orders, Dib bent down and pulled Zim into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

Zim made an annoyed noise, pouting as if he hated the very idea of being close to him, but didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him and hold on tight, because if he didn’t, the universe could come crashing down. At least, that’s what it felt like.

“Stupid Dib-thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> please be sure to follow me on tumblr at invxder-hxils for updates!


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